Under the Rose
by Emono
Summary: UNDER THE ROSE: The Court's Story. An Anti-Court has formed to take the subs of 'Taker's Court, and they will stop at nothing until they've broken the spirit of all. How will the boys handle this threat to the ones they love most? SLASH! More info inside!
1. Chapter 1

**Title**: Under the Rose**  
Author**: Emono**  
Rating**: FRM**  
Fandom**: Wrestling**  
Pairings**: Undertaker/Punk, HBK/Morrison, Cena/Ted, Edge/Christian, Jericho/Evan, Hardycest, Randy/Cody, Miz/Swagger**  
Series: **_Under The Rose_ series**  
Summary: **An Anti-Court has formed to take the subs of 'Taker's Court, and they will stop at nothing until they've broken the spirit of all. How will the boys handle this threat to the ones they love most?**  
Disclaimer**: The WWE is not mine nor are any of it's child branches, it is the 96% property of the McMahon's and God bless the bastards that work for them. I respect the sexual preferences and identities of all the wrestlers on WWE roster, and who they share a bed with is really none of my business.**  
Warnings**: Slash, D/S, rape, angst, plot-twists, violence, smut, everything that makes a good story.

**AN**: Finally, we are at the present! This is 2009, biz-nitches (the story is in '09, I mean)

Thank you to all readers who were so patient with me! I hope everyone was satisfied with the single stories and how I finished them, I worked my muses pert little butts off non-stop over the holiday. I made sure to put lists at the end of all the single stories so no one gets left behind. But! If you are new to this series or think you've missed something, check the bottom of this chapter and make sure you're all caught up.

Note, some things that happened in '09 will be altered, like Edge's serious injury.

Let's get this started, huh?

* * *

Undertaker's Court was called in at a meeting, discussing the up-coming storylines for everyone. Edge and Jericho wanted to split back up the Unified Tag-Team belts, calling the title too greedy. Cena propositioned continuing his and Randy's feud for the rest of the year, to make it a big legendary thing. _Night of Champions_ was coming soon, and all wanted a spot.

Jericho and Edge talked about who deserved a shot at their separated titles and when they should split the sets of belts. Christian was dozing off, his flight here had been hell and he hadn't gotten a lot of sleep. He had been away finishing his TNA DVD even though he had returned to the WWE, he had promised to do a few disc set on his years at the industry. Evan had his head on his master's knee, gazing up at him adoringly as he spoke. He truly was one of the most devoted subs among them.

Undertaker was discussing his recent time off to Shawn, saying he wanted to concentrate on his real estate business. Shawn had been worried about him since Wrestlemania, feeling that his leader's injury had been directly his fault. Mark assured him time and time again it was fine, but he needed the time off to rest his knees and work on his business. He was setting himself up financially, for himself and for his pet.

Punk and Morrison made faces at each other past their masters legs, having become closer friends now that the ECW belt fighting was out of the way.

The Miz was retelling his match with Boogeyman to Matt in vivid detail, making the darker Hardy laugh (he loved gross stuff.) Jake watched on from his position by the door, as was always his place when they were meeting like this. Though Punk was technically the head sub, Jake was the enforcer among them. He'd grown close to the other subs, and he was always the first to defend his friends. Jeff was sketching something out on his drawing tablet, hand quick with the pencil to fill up the blank page with a tree-like design akin to the one tattooed up his arms.

Randy and John were engrossed in their own conversation, heads together almost. At their masters feet, Ted and Cody listened while their tails slithered almost hypnotically against the carpet. Ted was playing with the familiar dog tags around his neck, ones he wore all the time except when John wore them to the ring. They were the tags he always took off and kissed before a match, handing them off to his valet instead of the tech guys. The blonde was happy to sport the black-edged tags, knowing they symbolized so much more than mere identification. Cody resisted the urge to purr as Randy's fingers played with his hair, though not touching his ears (that brought on a reaction that was in no way appropriate for this situation.) It was his master's way of showing him affection among their friends, among the Court.

But Ted and Cody kept close to their masters legs, not looking toward the other side of the semi-circle the Court made.

Batista sat there, eyes glued to Ted. When he stared, he always made sure it wasn't too long and no one saw him. Today was a special day for Dave, a special day that none of the other masters knew about. He hadn't taken a sub of his own for good reason, but Mark just assumed he was waiting for the right person to come along. Oh, Dave was biding his time alright. He was planning a little get-together of his own later.

"David."

Batista looked up, forcing a smile at the ever-menacing Undertaker.

"Yes sir?"

"Are you happy with your storyline at the moment?" Mark inquired, hand to his lips "You're coming back from a serious injury, do you think you're fit?"

"Yes, actually" Dave replied good-naturedly "The bookers have been good to me, they're putting me in a storyline with Rey right away. I'm going to be coming to _Smackdown_ with you, sir."

"We'll be glad to have you" Mark stated.

The Hardys, headlines for _Smackdown_ themselves, shared a rather nasty look but said nothing.

"How do you see the next few weeks going for you?" Mark asked, curious.

Dave's dark chuckle sent a shudder through Ted's spine, clinging onto Cena's leg a bit tighter.

"Well, Master 'Taker…I see them as very eventful" Dave replied ominously "And I think we'll all have our hands full over the next few months. In and…_out_ of the ring."

Cena and Orton, almost in unison, curled their hands around the back of their pet's necks in protective gestures.

John was the one to speak up with a friendly smile, "I'm sure we'll all prevail in whatever comes our way."

//Oh, I doubt that, Cena.//

"Of course we will" Dave lied through his teeth "I mean, who would dare mess with us?"

**xXxXxXx**

**LATER  
**

In a rather lavish suite across the hotel, another meeting was taking place…one made of a rather unlikely group of people. They waited on their last member to join them, though more impatiently than the Court did for their last arrival.

Kane was among them, obviously the one conducting this meeting. His eyes fell on the others, sizing them up, deciding that this was the group he needed.

John "Bradshaw" Layfield sat there with his arms crossed, cowboy hat pulled down low over his eyes and a scowl on his face. He was obviously distasteful of his company, but he was here for only one reason and he stayed for one reason. One thought of that pretty glitter-doll and he knew he had to go through with this.

Raven and Kurt Angle themselves sat on the couch, eyeing each other warily. They both knew who they were here for, two subs who were very close. Eyeliner-heavy eyes rolled, the Olympian looked away.

Hunter sat proudly among them, not afraid to admit why he was here.

On one of the single chairs, the one most normal out of all of them, sat AJ Styles. He seemed the most comfortable, an easy smile on his face.

And off to the side, scowling and shifting in his seat, was Vladimir Kozlov himself. He didn't know many here that well, but he wasn't here to make friends.

The door opened, and a thickly muscled figure made his way inside before slamming the door shut.

"Whew" Dave sighed, turning to face the group "I barely got here, guys. Thought Michaels was tailing me."

"He's probably on to ya" Layfield drawled "Smart man, that bastard."

Dave just sat down beside Hunter, bumping fists with him as a smirk flashed over their faces.

"I think we all know why we're here" Kane stated, all hushing the moment his deep voice met the air "We're sick and tired of my brother's little group. They're a bunch of greedy bastards, agreed?"

"Understatement" Raven hissed, eyes flashing dangerously.

"These assholes take the best pieces of ass on the roster and keep them for themselves" Hunter complained, trying not to scowl too much but finding it difficult "Hell, you know we'd be banging the bitches we want if they weren't locked up by their masters."

Kane nodded solemnly, "We're here to break this little tradition, right?"

All nodded, determination in their features.

"This sub-crap is bullshit" AJ stated "It's not fair they have them all for themselves. They pick out the best, the ones that are just begging to get fucked, and then never share."

Angle glanced around, "We're all not here for the same boy, are we? 'Cause I'm saying right now, I can't take anymore competition."

Raven couldn't help but snicker at this, getting a glare.

Kane pursed his lips, "I don't believe we are. I, of course, want my brother's sub."

None were surprised.

"Well, I'm layin' my claim down now" JBL slapped an envelope down on the coffee table, sliding it to Kane "I want Morrison, that glitter-doll is mine as soon as I get my hands on him. This will fund the whole project, dontcha think Glenn?"

The bald man took the envelope, peered inside, and grinned, "Oh yes, Layfield, I think this will take care of it."

"I probably have the most competition out of all of you" Raven began, giving Angle a fierce look "And I saw the way you looked at him. But the pretty Hardy is mine."

"Hey, all yours" Angle held up his hands in surrender "But I think we can all agree that we're tired of these bitches teasing us. The entire time he was in TNA, Jason was a fuckin' flirt. These 'subs' strut around in almost nothing and then have the nerve to think they don't have to put out. It's not fair, am I right?"

Most nodded.

AJ cleared his throat, "Most of you don't know me, I'm AJ."

Layfield gave him a hard look, "I don't know why you're here, boy."

Kane and Raven exchanged a look, both smirking.

"You don't know AJ like I do, JBL, you're not on TNA" Raven gave a little laugh, all but tasting the evil rolling off Styles "He's a wicked one. Who you got your eyes on, AJ?"

The brunette smirked, tracing his bottom lip with his thumb, "Evan."

Hunter seemed a bit surprised by this, "The little Bourne brat?"

"He draws me in without trying" AJ looked off, a shadow passing over his features "And if I don't get a piece of him, I'm just gonna…_snap_, ya know what I mean?"

Hunter scooted away pointedly, giving Dave a 'holy shit this guy is crazy' look.

"Besides" AJ brightened up, smiling "I like 'em smaller than me, and you can't get much smaller than sweet little Evan."

Kane looked over toward Hunter and Dave, cocking his head, "And you two are after the special boys, aren't you?"

"The kittens?" Dave licked his lips, remembering how tempting Ted had looked earlier "Hell yeah. I got a good taste of little DiBiase a while back…I gotta have the whole thing. I can't sit there looking at him anymore. I'm gonna break him so good."

Hunter patted his friend's back, "And I'm gonna break Orton's pussy-bitch. I almost had him a while back too, when he was still a virgin. It's a shame, but it's kind of about Orton now. I just want to…"

"Hurt Orton through the boy" Layfield supplied, a smirk twisting his lips "Well, Hunter, I think most of us are for this. We hate the 'masters' almost as much as we lust after their subs, huh?"

Raven agreed with this, scowling as he thought of Matt.

Angle looked over at Kozlov, wincing at the Ukrainian's stony expression.

Kane looked over at him too, "Vladimir…"

"_Da_" the man growled something out in his angry foreign language, then grunted out a few words in English "Svagger. Boy like bull. I vish to break him too. Miz."

Vladmir's face twisted up in a deeper scowl at the man's name, "Thinks he's so great, thinks he ruled _ECW_. Thinks he can take strong man and break him. I vill show him how to break Svagger."

Again, Hunter scooted back into the couch, wondering juts what kind of thing he'd gotten himself into.

AJ barked out a laugh, pleased with this.

"With Dave's help" Kane gave the man a nod, who grinned "We can infiltrate my brother's tight-knit system. We can get these subs alone, vulnerable. Away…from their keepers."

"Oh!" AJ shot up his hand, swinging it.

Kane nodded at him, though he wasn't sure why the man felt the need to be called on.

AJ latched onto his seat, leaning forward to show the wicked intent on his face, "Can we do…whatever we want to the sub we're going after? No plan…too elaborate, too crazy? Cause I have an idea…but I'll need a bit of help."

"That's why we're here, boy" Layfield tapped his jacket pocket, feeling the bulge of his checkbook "To make dreams come true.""Over the next few weeks, I plan to take back what should be mine" Kane offered, a firm set in his jaw "And I say, working together, we all do just that. I gathered you together so you know who your allies will be in this endeavor, who you can ask for help and who can set up your schemes with."

Angle blinked dumbly, "Schemes?"

Raven shook his head, heaving a great sigh before giving the meathead a glare, "Why haven't you gone after Christian before this?"

"Ugh…cause it's too hard to get him alone long enough, let alone pin him down."

"There we go, that's what he means" Raven replied, a little more than frustrated with the man's intelligence limit "We work together. One of us will distract Edge or knock him out…or kill him, or something."

"Ooo" AJ's eyes lit up "Killing? Really? No one said we'd be doing that" he looked toward Kane eagerly "Can we do that?"

Kane's laugh was like gravel in a blender, rough and uncut, "Oh, Styles, you're going to make this very interesting, aren't you?"

AJ's smirk was the essence of fiendish intent.

"I want you all to think of a plan here these next two weeks" Kane instructed, holding their attention "When we all know what we're doing, I want to strike all at once. In just a few days, I want all the subs out of commission. Do what you will to them. But let's try to aim for breaking their 'master's spirit, alright?"

Vladimir gave a happy growl, frown curling up into a smirk as well, "_Da_."

The others agreed, all eager for their forming plans to be put into action.

* * *

**Consider this chapter my cast list for the rest of the story; and if you're confused, this is exactly what my notes say:**

**The Anti-Court:**

Kane - Punk  
JBL - Morrison  
Batista - Ted  
Kurt Angle - Christian  
AJ Styles - Evan  
Raven - Jeff  
Hunter - Cody  
Vladimir Kozlov - Swagger

**I'm sorry if the Anti-Court isn't made up of who you'd like, but after reading through the subs profiles…I chose accordingly if not for the only reason I ran out of hot guys and had to go fishing in the TNA cesspool. I don't like. Excuse my AJ Styles, I had to make him psychotic so he could interesting enough for me to play for more than a page.**

**All stories in this verse are (in order to be read):**

"_**And Don't Forget To Let Your Heart Beat**_**" - Cody's Story**  
"_**I'm A Match Burning Out**_**" - Ted's Story**  
"_**This Fire Burns All The Way**_**" - Miz and Punk's story**  
"_**So Happy I Could Die**_**" - Edge and Christian's snippet**  
"_**Under the Rose**_**" - The Court's story, the main story**


	2. Chapter 2

**Some real names will be kept, some won't. Just saying. It's just what I feel natural with, cause I just got used to writing 'Jack' as 'Jake'. My mind can't make itself up on people like Christian, I jump around on him. For example, I'm trying to keep it so Edge is 'Adam' when he's just being himself, but when he gets all mature and serious he's 'Edge' again.**

**It's confusing, you must forgive me. Blame them for not using their real names!**

**Also, if you have any questions about the plot, the way I'm writing…if you confused, mail me. I check my e-mail every weekend, I will answer any questions you have about this fic or any other fic of mine. I want everyone to have a good read,, and I know sometimes I don't write everything as clearly as I should.**

* * *

Turns out, Night of Champions went off with only one hitch. A big hitch. _The_ hitch.

"You!" Punk roared at Jeff, finding the Enigma walking down the hall with the Heavyweight belt over his shoulder "Hardy, give it back!"

"If you hadn't noticed, C-U-M, I _won_ it" Jeff taunted, grabbing the belt by the strap and wiggling it in front of the fuming ravenette.

"You cheated out there and you know it!" Punk barked, snatching at the gold and missing "That's my belt, Hardy, and I want it back! This instant!"

"Stop being such a sore loser" Jeff scoffed, pulling his new belt back and away from the man "We had our match, I won…you lost. Get over it."

Punk huffed loudly, "You have no idea what it means to be a champion! I deserve that belt."

"And I don't?" Jeff shot back, getting angry as well "I've put my body on the line time and time again for this industry, and I deserve a little respect! A little proof that I'm one of the top-dogs."

"Being an _idiot_ doesn't make you a hero" Punk got in his face, jabbing him in the chest with his finger "And it sure as fuck doesn't give you a right to steal my championship. Now give me the belt, or so help you God, I'll-"

"What? Huh, what?!" Jeff shoved him "Do something, C-U-M! I dare you!"

With matching snarls, they lunged at each other. Hair was pulled, punches were thrown, and they soon fell into a tangled heap on the floor. Jeff cried out when the younger man's elbow dug into his ribs sharply, so he lashed out on pure instinct. Punk jerked away, but not soon enough to prevent blood-colored nails from raking down his face.

Matt found them first, rushing forward and grabbing his brother around the neck with his arm, "That's enough now, Jeffrey!"

"He started it!" Jeff shouted, thrashing a bit as his brother dragged him away.

Mark had been following the darker Hardy, observing the scene for only a moment before his features hardened. He closed the distance in a few long strides, reaching down and grabbing his precious pet by the back of the neck. He yanked Phil to his feet, the young ravenette glaring fiercely at the Hardy and trying to get at him again. Mark wasn't surprised to see four crimson scratches staining his pet's face, blood close to the surface but the skin was merely scathed…not split.

Undertaker didn't take too kindly to see his boy's blood.

"Boys" Mark growled "That…is…_enough_."

Both wilted at the rough tone, dropping to their knees in near-unison. They slipped back into their sub-roles, shedding their in-ring personas like old cloaks. That was how it worked when you were both a sub and a wrestler. Once you were backstage, you obeyed your master.

Mark used his grip on Punk's neck to tilt his head back, tracing the dark red scratches with his long fingers. Phil had the decency to look ashamed of himself, dropping his eyes away.

"Matthew" Mark cast one of his youngest a disapproving look.

"I'm sorry, Master 'Taker, he'll be punished" Matt stated seriously, wincing at the marks Jeff had left on his leader's sub.

Mark brought Phil to his feet, leading his boy out of there with a look that said the boy would be getting a lecture later on as well.

Matt gathered his brother into his arms, shoving his title belt into his hands, "What were you thinkin', Jeffy? Attackin' Phil of all people like that?"

"He said stuff" Jeff growled, realizing how childish he sounded "Mean stuff. He riled me up like that on purpose! He was gonna take my belt."

Jeff hugged the gold to his chest, knowing he truly did deserve it.

"Of course he said horrible things, you guys just had an intense headline match" Matt rolled his eyes "But ya know you gotta learn 'ta control that temper, darlin'. Next time-"

"What's wrong, Matty?" came a greasy, low purr "Can't control the Rainbow Delight?"

Both Hardys turned, searching for the source of the voice. They found it in the form of Raven, over there by the wall and leaning against it. He was watching the scene with a smirk, something wicked shining in his eyes.

"Levy" Matt growled, keeping his brother tight in his arms "Don' know why you bother to bring yer has-been ass around here, no one wants to see you. You're TNA trash now…or did you forget?"

"Now Jeff, aren't you going to defend me?" Raven pulled a faux-hurt look "After all…we were TNA trash together."

Jeff scoffed, "Jackass."

"Aw, Enigma, don't be that way" Raven pushed off the wall, taking a step closer.

Matt pointedly started to lead his brother way, shooting the man a nasty look, "Back off, Levy. I'm in no mood for you."

"Probably, but I bet Jeff is."

Jeff glanced down at the tent in the man's pants, "You're a pig."

"And you are just _made_ to pass around like a sweet little whore" Raven crooned.

Matt was about to lunge, but merely smirked when he saw two figures approach behind the blonde. Raven turned, scowling when he saw them as well.

"You're not causing trouble, are you Levy?" Edge inquired smugly, using his height to tower down on the shorter wrestler.

"We wouldn't wanna have to kick your ass" Jericho swung an arm around the older man's shoulders, his smile strained and his voice deadly "You know…_again_."

Raven threw the other's arm off his shoulders, giving Edge a distasteful look, "I'm only saying what everyone's thinking."

Matt left his brother's side, getting up in Raven's face and nearly burning him with his smoldering gaze, "And that's all you'll ever do, Levy…_think_. You'll never lay a hand on my brother. You'll never…_ever_, get the chance to act your sick little fantasies."

Raven sucked in a soft breath, leaning in just briefly, "…that's what you think."

The older man made his leave, leaving a rather confused Hardy behind.

Jeff didn't think a thing of it, trusting his big brother to protect him. He always had, and he always would. Never would that bastard Raven get a chance to touch him, not with the protection of the Court around him. No one man could ever penetrate their defenses.

So Jeff indulged himself in petting his belt, not ever once thinking…

…_just maybe_…

**xXxXxXx**

**A Month Later**

Cody woke up with a jerk, groaning in pain before rolling out of bed. He scrambled out of the room, barely making it to the bathroom in time. He all but fell onto the toilet, stomach emptying itself into the bowl. His throat burned raw as the stomach acid forced itself out, everything he'd eaten in the past few hours leaving his body nutrition-less.

Randy woke up to the sound of his pet in distress, getting a brief glimpse of him staggering out the door. He flung back the covers, a frown of concern on his face as he slid on a pair of boxers. He hurried after his pet, finding him slumped over the toilet in the bathroom. The poor thing, the sight hurt his heart. Cody's ears were pinned back, tail lying limp on the tile.

He hadn't seen Cody so vulnerable in so long. His pet had built up muscle over the past years, growing stronger and more bold. But these last three months, Cody had been getting sick early in the mornings. He picked at his food like a bird, he had trouble sleeping some nights, and sometimes he'd get nauseas at the oddest hours of the day.

Randy got a glass of water and set it beside the toilet, grabbing a towel next and wetting the corner with cold as well. He dropped down on the other side of his pet, observing the sad sight.

Once it was all just dry heaves, Cody pulled away from the bowl and flushed.

"You need to see a doctor" Randy stated.

"What doctor would see me?" Cody rasped, tail flicking pointedly.

" 'Taker's working on that" Randy sighed, grabbing the glass of water and holding it to his boy's lips "Sip."

Cody obeyed, rinsing out his mouth. The water soon soothed his raw throat, slowly relaxing. He was enveloped in his master's tattooed arms, a cool towel gently wiping his lips and the sweat from his face.

"My sweet Coddles" Randy brushed his cheek over his boy's dark hair, glad to hear him sigh and feel him melt into his touch "I'm sorry you're sick. Do you remember eating anything that could do this to you?"

Cody thought hard, "No."

Randy couldn't think of what else this would be. He curled his arm around his pet's waist, smiling when he felt the thickening muscle there. His boy was working so hard to keep his body in fit condition, always wanting to keep up with him and to handle himself expertly in the ring.

This sickness had weakened him, and Cody hated this. He couldn't do much in the ring to help Randy feeling like this, not sure when he could flip someone over the ring or even pull them down below the bottom rope. This was torture.

Cody let his master carry him back into their bedroom, hoping to get some rest now.

**

* * *

**

**Sorry about the short chapter, everything I had written out was the next chapter and all THAT went together. This was kind of two odd scenes out, but Raven and Cody could not be denied. **


	3. Chapter 3

A month later, the roster was in Canada.

Evan stood outside the arena in the smoking area, a hoody covering him but little else to protect himself from the cold. He didn't smoke, but he did huff out crystallized breaths. He tried to make smoke rings, ad even when it failed it he was smiling. The natural chill nipped at his face, turning the tip of his nose and cheeks a bright cherry.

//I love the cold// Evan mused, filling his lungs with the mildly frosty air.

"I can't wait for snow" he whispered.

Randy watched the boy, leaning against the wall with a cigarette between his lips. He took a drag, then lowered the stick to let the wave of smoke spill over his lips.

"Sorry, Ev, you'll be waiting a while for that" Randy teased the ravenette "It's summer, remember?"

Evan sighed childishly, turning to give the older man a pout, "Do you think I could convince my master to move back here?"

"Chris? Back in Canada?" Randy stifled a laugh "I'm sorry, kid. You may be a snow-bunny, but Chris isn't. He couldn't take the nearly constant snow."

"But I _love_ snow" Evan whined.

"You'll just have to wait a couple more months" Randy sucked down the last of the cigarette, scraping the bud against the wall to put it out before tossing it into the trash can waiting there "I've got a match, so come back inside soon, alright? Chris will kill me if he knows I left you outside."

Evan laughed innocently at this, "What could happen to me out here?"

"My luck? The arena would collapse" Randy grumbled, opening up the door and clicking the latch on it that kept it open "Ten minutes, seriously."

Evan nodded at the master, watching him leave. He tilted his head back, gazing up at the grey clouds over the land. He sent a little wish up for snow, knowing he'd be ignored. Even with this being Canada, he knew it wouldn't snow for him. That was his only problem with his master's two homes in LA and Tampa…no snow, no winter. He'd chosen two very warm climates, contrasting with his Canadian heritage.

But for Evan's twenty-third birthday, his sweet master had bought a cabin in the mountains where it snowed so thickly his footsteps usually didn't last the night. It was Evan's snowy retreat, for it was always cold there and even the lightest dusting of snow seemed to come all year long.

"Evan?" came a familiar voice "Evan, is that you?"

Evan turned, smiling brightly. He ran at the man, throwing his arms around him.

"AJ!" Evan laughed, squeezing the older man tightly. He got hugged just as tightly in return, even spun a little bit. The ravenette pulled away, looking his friend over. "Wow, man, you put on some muscle!"

"And look at you, Fly-boy" AJ teased, poking the boy in the stomach "You're the exact same, but much more famous now, huh? Everyone knows who you are now."

"I'm just getting started, so don't fatten up my ego" Evan poked him back, both smiling now "I haven't seen you in forever. What are you up to?"

//That's because your keeper's been cutting me off every time I try// AJ kept his smile through the bitter thoughts, knowing now it'd be so much easier.

"Nothing nearly as interesting as going overseas with the troops" AJ replied, appealing to the younger man's tender heart "I kind of wished I could do it, but I'm a coward. You're pretty brave, Evvy."

Evan blushed a bit, then brightened up when he got an idea, "I know! How 'bout you come over my house this weekend. I can make us lunch and we can catch up! It's been forever, and sometimes I miss the simplicity of TNA. You can fill me in on everyone."

AJ's chuckle was a shade dark, but the boy didn't notice, "_That_…sounds awesome, man. I'm free."

Evan bit the side of his lip, "I'll have to talk to Chris, though…"

AJ pulled a confused face, "Doesn't he have that…that tax thing this Saturday?"

Evan recalled his lover talking about the IRS wanting to do a pre-audit on him, just to see if there was any probable cause for a full audit.

"Oh right" Evan's brow creased "How did you know?"

"They're doing that with a lot of wrestlers this Saturday" AJ lied easily "Tomko and Sabin both have to go in early, they were complaining about it."

Evan ate it up, nodding wisely, "Yeah, it's best to do it all at once with us. You never know where the roster's going to be sent next. I mean, hell, we're in Canada…this weekend, we'll be in Tampa. It's crazy, right?"

"Oh yeah" the brunette replied "Crazy."

**xXxXxXx**

Morrison took his best girl friend, Melina, out shopping. Whenever he had the urge to go get new clothes (which he often did), he knew that she was the only one who could put up with him. All his other friends hated shopping. All…besides Evan, but that kid wore him out with all his jumping around and laughter. He loved Ev, but damn…he was a lot to handle.

John threw open the door, striking a Marilyn Monroe pose, "Eat your heart out, baby."

Melina smiled at him indulgently, eyes taking in the outfit, "You…_damn_ you, I want those legs."

John did a very Edge-like rooster strut over to the foot-raised stage in front of the three-panel mirror. The story was very lavish, very high-end clothes. He hopped up onto the circular stage, sweeping his shades up into his hair stylishly. He smiled at himself, winking, flirting with his reflection. The clothes looked really good on him. Designer jeans that hung to every mile of his legs, the dark charcoal jacket was cut nicely for his build. He ran his hand down the designer shirt, loving the punk-ish design on it and how it clung just right to his abs.

What was wrong with this store? It was incredibly expensive.

Melina came up and peered at the price tag, making a face, "It's so much, honey."

"Don't care" John replied flippantly, turning to give his butt a look "I look amazing, I'm buying it. This…and those four other outfits I tried on."

Melina agreed, grabbing her outfits next, "Give me a moment, honey, and I'll give you a run for your money."

"Try, baby, try" John replied good-naturedly, shooting her a wink before she disappeared into the dressing room. He puckered his lips and posed a few more times, loving the content feeling it gave him. He loved spending money, he loved buying himself things. He had spent most of his childhood wishing for stylish clothes, wishing he could dress himself in the most flattering clothes. Once his dad had kicked him out, he stripped just to eat and keep a crappy apartment. He hadn't had enough money to get more than his basic needs, so he didn't get his first real taste of designer clothes until Shawn found him.

Now that his WWE career was in full throttle, he didn't hesitate to get himself the finest clothes he could find.

John fluffed his hair, shooting himself another wink. But when he caught sight of someone in the mirror, he froze. His smile fell in a shocked gasp, eyes widening suddenly at being caught. The man approached in measured strides, a stony expression on his face. The Guru of Greatness froze, simply watching him approach, a flush of shame staining his cheeks.

Shawn stopped by the stage, crossing his arms over his chest and observing his pet, "Just what in the hell do you think you're doin', sweetheart?"

"Shawnie" John spun around, giving the older man a shaky smile "W-What are you doing here?"

"I thought it was obvious. I'm lookin' for you."

John dropped down, sitting on the edge of the platform. He pouted cutely, trying his best puppy look at his master. Shawn merely stood there, expressionless, watching him.

"I thought I told you, no more clothes this month" Shawn scolded "Boy, you deliberately lied to me and snuck out to go shopping. Right after I said no, too."

"Don't be mad, Master" John purred, lifting his leg seductively and showing off the way the material clung to his shapely form. He raised his foot just enough, running it right along his mater's inner knee. He gave him a seductive smile, raven strands falling in his eyes.

"It's just one little trip" John whined sweetly, leaning back some more to show the clothes off "You want me to look good, don't you? Don't I looked nice in _these_?"

"Stop" Shawn ordered firmly, knocking the boy's foot away from his leg "You'd look good in a potato sack and you know it. This isn't about clothes, this is about your vanity and spending habits."

John huffed, brow creasing in frustration, "Why are you so insistent on giving me a spending limit? I make my own money, I should decide how to go through it!"

Shawn raised a brow at his pet's impudence, "_Because_, glitter-bug…if I didn't hold back half your paychecks, we both know you'd be completely broke by now. I've watched you shop, I know you don't even look at the price tags. You wanna end up like some of my old friends? They spent all their money early and now they live in two-room apartments with their entire families, no houses. You have to save now, invest, be smart."

John looked away, //This is so unfair. He's treating me like a child!//

Shawn softened and cupped his pet's chin, gazing into those beautiful dark cobalt eyes, "You think I'm horrible, don't you?"

John didn't reply for a long moment, "…I don't know where half my money goes, Master. I give most of it to you."

"I'm just thinking of you" Shawn replied honestly "I just want to make sure you're secure and happy for the rest of your life. I invest that money, I keep it locked up for you. You can have it whenever you want, and I promise to take care of you after you've spent it all."

John bit the side of his lip, knowing what his master spoke of was true. He went through money like candy, giving it away as fast as he could for clothes or shoes or coats. Trips, spas, so much stuff he didn't need. He loved having a good time, that was all. He trusted Shawn, and he knew his money was safe away for the later years when he didn't give a crap about designer clothes anymore.

It was his weakness, and he was ashamed for making Shawn hunt him down.

"Now, are ya gonna come back with me?" Shawn inquired, running his thumb along his pet's full lower lip.

"I-I drove Melina" John managed to grind out, smiling weakly "I won't buy anything, but I promised we'd go out to lunch. So…"

"I'll see you later" Shawn bent down and dropped a kiss on his pet's forehead. He tucked some unruly raven strands behind his love's ear, trying to ignore the pang in his heart that came from denying his boy anything. "Listen…when we're in New York next month, I'll take you on a trip myself, ok?"

John nodded, though he felt guilty now.

Shawn left his pet there, almost just as Melina came out.

"What do you think?!" she came out, posing only briefly before she saw her friend "Honey, what's wrong?"

"Nothing" John managed a smile, standing up and turning towards her "You looking stunning."

Unbeknownst to either Morrison or his master, the young woman who seemed to be browsing through the mini-skirts was actually observing all this. Thanks to the subtle earpiece she was wearing, she also heard everything that had been said. The young, pretty blonde pulled out her cell phone, giving John a last look before turning away completely. She browsed through the purses as it rang, waiting for her boss to pick up.

"Sir" she whispered once the line clicked "Michaels came, just like you said he would."

Her boss inquired for more and she complied, "Michaels denied him money, told him he needed to save and invest it instead. Morrison's heartbroken over it, he looks upset."

Her boss was pleased, and told her to stick around.

**xXxXxXx**

In a reserved airfield in Canada, a small private jet landed easily onto the runway. Minutes went by, the plane stilled and settled down. Soon enough, the hatch opened and a single man emerged. The man was smiling jovially, all but bouncing down the steps and humming 'Psycho' to himself. He took the last step at a leap, landing on the ground in a crouch.

He looked around, almost playing spy, and spotted the long white limo waiting for him. He straightened up, brushed off his jeans, and began the walk toward it. He opened the back door, sliding inside before closing it again. The door locked automatically, the a/c a relief from the chilly air.

He looked across the limo, finding JBL himself sitting there. He had his legs crossed, a glass of rock-whiskey in his hand. His silk-lined Stetson was carefully placed beside him, the light catching off the silver buckle. The rich gentleman was smirking, obviously pleased with himself.

"Allen."

"Call me AJ, man" Styles waved off his real name, leaning back into the buttery leather seat "After all…we're all working together to get what we want."

"Drink, boy" JBL nodded toward the whiskey bottle on the brunette's side.

"Thanks" AJ grinned, pouring himself a drink and raising it in a toast "You are a genius, Bradshaw. Getting Jericho audited? Perfect."

"I'm glad you think so" Layfield drank to this, a smirk twisting his features "Then I take it you got a way into the boy's home?""I'm going to be scouting the place while Chris is trying to explain his two hundred investment in Shop Erotic" AJ snickered, extremely pleased with himself "I'm glad you offered when you did, I think we're gonna be the first ones to put a plan into action."

"Don't you worry about that, the others are getting their acts together too" Layfield stifled a laugh "Shoot! This is already gettin' fun. I trust you to do your job?""Oh yeah, I've already got it set up" the younger man assured him "I took the next four days off, I'm gonna follow the roster. When I get your call, I'll fuck up Michael's GPS. He'll never make it to your glitter-doll, _this_…I promise you."

"And when they find your little fly-boy, they'll forget all about Johnny" JBL leaned forward, clinking their glasses "That's when I'm told the rest of them we'll strike. We're the first wave, the distraction. And I think we're damn good ones, too."

Both drank to this.

AJ cleared his throat, "That burns real nice, Bradshaw. Almost forgot though…did you get what I asked for?"

"Right" Layfield slipped a black leather zipper-case out of his jacket pocket, handing it to the other wrestler "It'll do the job. Though I don't know why you'd want it."AJ slipped it into his own jacket pocket, all but giggling, "Just to add insult to injury, I 'spose. Seems like a fun thing to do, ya know?"

John forced a polite smile, "No I don't, but I'm sure _you_ do…ya crazy bastard."

AJ just kept laughing, nearly folding in two as his side ached.

Things were about to get pretty damn interesting.

* * *

**Must warn you guys now…this plot is gonna be a little complicated and happen all at once. It's a chain-reaction attack, and the Anti-Court is going to strike in just a few days. So everything will be a little scattered. I'm warning the readers instead of the actual Court, because you guys need the info more.**


	4. Chapter 4

**They are now filming in Tampa, that's where the roster's at. Get ready for a flurry of activity, honey-bunches. Most of the stars live in Tampa anyways.**

* * *

That weekend (Saturday), the first real motions of the plan were put into motion.

Evan jumped as the doorbell sounded, a smile quickly coming to his face. He raced through the house, jumping over the cat at the last moment.

"Columbia, damn it" Evan scolded without any real venom, reaching the door and pulling it open "Hey AJ!"

"Hey there, Ev" the brunette smiled, holding out his arms "Here I am!"

"That you are" Evan pulled him inside, catching him in a quick hug before gesturing to the kitchen "Come on in, I hope you like Italian. I ordered in."

"You little liar, you'd said you'd make me food" AJ teased, subtly taking in his surroundings as he made his way to the kitchen. He noted that the large living room was just to the right of the front door, loving the plush carpet and knowing he'd make use of it.

Evan bounced past him, going to the kitchen island and unpacking the tin cartons he'd gotten from the Italian place across town. He set them out in a line, the warm herbal scent filling the air. He looked up, catching AJ smiling at him.

"What?"

"You're cute with you're glasses" AJ replied "I forgot what you looked like with them on."

Evan pushed the black-framed glasses further up his nose in a self-conscious gesture, "Thanks, man. I hate wearing them, but I can only handle contacts so long, you know?""Yeah" AJ kept looking around, this time in an obvious fashion "You have a nice place here. Real spacious, real _nice_. Looks like you're doing well for yourself."

"It's all Chris" Evan replied on a dreamy sigh "He's so good to me, AJ, you don't even know."

"I can guess" the brunette replied lowly, losing his humor only briefly before smiling "Still…you're like, the poster-boy for all wrestlers on the independent circuit. Look at all the places you were in before you came to the WWE! Do you remember when you were just a jobber in TNA? All those falls you took…"

AJ snatched up a ravioli, swallowing it down, "…you're just amazing, you know that?"

"And you are full of such shit!" Evan laughed, striking his friend in the arm playfully before getting down two plates "Stop fattening me up, ok?"

"You love it."

"You're not wrong" Evan replied coyly, handing him a big spoon "Dig in."

They spent the next hour at the large island, talking about the past and stuffing their faces. They laughed, moving on to the present soon enough. AJ was feeding him line after line, rekindling their friendship in a microwave way. That is to say…in a make-shift quick way, not caring how it tasted as long as it was hot.

AJ made his way over to the other eventually, standing next to him. They were both leaning on the counter, picking at the scraps left after their feast. AJ spun some story about the Motorcity Machine Guns, teasing Evan by comparing them to the young high-flyer.

They were so caught up, heads together and having a light-hearted debate on who had the better shaped ring (TNA or WWE), that they didn't hear the door open.

Chris entered the kitchen silently, having wondered who's car had been in his driveway. He found his pet with another man…in his home, in his kitchen. His lips curled up in a snarl, his legendary temper boiling to the surface.

"Evan."

Evan paused, turning to see his master there. He smiled brighter than when he'd seen AJ, his heart swelling as it always did when he saw Chris.

"Master!" Evan ran around the island, all but launching himself into the blonde's arms. He snuggled into him, eyes fluttering shut as he breathed in the familiar cologne. He was so glad Chris didn't have to spend all day away worrying about his taxes, so relieved that the man he loved didn't have to go through that kind of stress any longer than he had to. They had enough to worry about during the week, they didn't need their free time filled up with crap too.

Chris wrapped his arms around his lover's lithe waist, bringing him into his body protectively. His eyes were locked on AJ, the man's signature smile fading into a deep grown. Both glared fiercely, electricity passing between them as tension filled the air.

"I'm so glad you're home" Evan cooed happily, pulling away to see the blonde glaring rather heatedly at AJ "What's wrong?""I expect to be told when you have other men over" Chris replied with the first thing that came to mind "Not to mention that it's _this_ wanna-be."

Evan tried not to pout, "He's my friend."

"Yeah, Jericho, damn" Styles snapped "You don't have to be rude."

"I think it's time you leave" Chris spat right back.

"I don't think it's up to you" AJ walked around the island, grabbing Evan by the wrist and pulling him away from the blonde. He swung an arm around the boy's shoulder, giving him a squeeze. "It's up to Evan. It's his house too."

Evan flushed, "AJ…if Chris says you have to leave…then you have to leave, man. Sorry."

AJ scoffed, shoving the boy away, "Whatever."

//I got what I came here for// AJ smirked, letting himself out after giving a one look up the stairs //Enjoy your control while you have it, Jeri-Ho. Evan's gonna be on his back for me in no time, and he's gonna suffer for it. You both will.//

The tabby cat Columbia came up to him when he stopped in front of the door, rubbing against his leg. He cooed at it, leaning down and scratching it behind the ears.

"Take care of the little bitch for me, ok sweetie?" AJ purred, getting a soft mew from the cat in return as it leaned into his touch "He's gonna need all his strength to fight me. I like them when they fight. It's something me and the males of your species have in common, huh?"

"Hey!" Chris barked, seeing the man still there.

AJ straightened up, raising his hands in surrender, "I'm going."

After the door had closed on the man, Chris turned to his upset pet, "Why the hell did you let him in here?"

"He's my _friend_, Master, I haven't seen him in forever" Evan whined "We got along really well in TNA, and I…I dunno, I just wanted to catch up. It seems a waste…to…"

Evan wavered under the blonde's glare, meekly pushing up his glasses, "I'm sorry, I should've asked you."

"Yes, you should have" Chris sighed when he saw that he was upsetting his pet. He cupped the boy's face, bringing him closer in a tender movement. Evan came willingly, sorry that he had kind of tricked Chris. It wasn't lying, but he sure as hell hadn't told him the truth.

"I'm not mad, sweetling" Chris assured him, smiling at him "I just don't trust those TNA guys, you know that. Especially AJ. He got handsy with you when you two teamed up."

Evan managed a smile, blushing as he whispered, "Not everyone wants a piece of me, Chrissy."

Chris actually laughed at his shy pet, "That's what you think, precious."

**xXxXxXx**

John sat at his vanity, gazing into his reflection with an almost thoughtful air about him. He picked up his ivory brush, caressing the cool handle before running it through his hair. He brushed out his infamous locks slowly, savoring the soft texture against his palm. It was one of his indulgences, one of the things his master liked most about him. At least, this John deduced from the way Shawn was always petting through it.

As if sensing he was being thought about, Shawn chose this moment to enter their bedroom. He was freshly showered, having done two house shows earlier in the day. He seemed happy, even though he was rubbing his neck.

"Feeling the fight?" John teased, though it was out of love.

"Just a bit" Shawn sighed, making his way over to the desk "More than I should. The ring ages you, glitter-bug, remember that."

The name made John smile, as it always did. Shawn sat down at his desk, flipping open his laptop and bringing it out of sleep. He slipped on the glasses he always kept close by, ones he only used when he was trying to read the print on computer screens. The digital images never sat right with him, at least…not with his eyes. He went through his e-mail as he always did, smiling at some of the fan-mail and responding to a few from his friends. He even found one from Hunter, and immediately replied to his best friend.

John raked his teeth over his lower lip, thoughts coming back. He'd been plagued by a horrible thought all day, ever since he'd had breakfast with Cody and Evan this morning. Evan had been teasing the kitten, and Cody had just blurted out that Randy was the only man he'd ever slept with. With a little more prodding, Cody told them that he'd been raised to be a sub and had been given as a gift to the Orton. Morrison had known about this, but he hadn't really cared enough to listen when the others talked about it.

Cody had been a virgin.

John got up from the vanity, looking his reflection over. Dark blue silk pants clung to his hips, pouring down his legs in shimmering folds. He unbuttoned the matching shirt, his light-toned skin standing out against he material. He turned to the side, sucking in his stomach and putting his hand across his abs.

"Oh quit it, you're beautiful."

John turned and narrowed his eyes at his master, but the older man was busy with his laptop.

"That creeps me out."

"What?"

"That psychic HBK-thing."

"Oh right…_that_."

John walked over to their large bed, easing onto the soft coverlet. He scooted up to the headboard, all but draping himself over his plush pillows. He brought one into his arms, hugging it tightly and resting his chin on it. He mulled over his thoughts, trying to decide whether or not to say anything. He couldn't even put it into words, he wasn't sure what he wanted to ask. Eventually he just blurted it out.

"Shawnie?"

"Yeah darlin'?"

John kept his eyes on the bed spread, white-knuckling the poor pillow, "Are you…upset that I wasn't a virgin?"

Shawn turned in his chair, peering out his pet curiously. He removed his glasses, setting them aside with out taking his eyes from the boy. His sub looked, bottom lip caught in his teeth.

"What?" was all he could think to say.

"When you took me as your sub" John clarified, voice low "Were you disappointed when I told you I wasn't a virgin? Did it lessen my value that other men had fucked me?"

"How can you even ask that?" Shawn gave his boy an affectionate smile "I love ya, sweetheart. I always have, ever since I saw you shaking your pert little butt up on that stage."

"Please be honest with me, Master" John whispered, eyes glistening with the threat of tears "I need to know the truth."

Shawn stood, walking over to the bed to join his boy, "What brought this up?"

"Almost all the others were virgins when their masters took them" John buried his face in the pillow, trying to swallow back his growing misery "I don't know, I just…I feel like I robbed you of something. You deserved something innocent, and I'm the farthest thing from it."

Shawn grabbed the pillow, pulling it away from his boy's grip. John looked away, crossing his arms over his chest in a protective way. Shawn cupped his pet's face, leaning in and dropping a kiss on his cheek. John melted into his touch, eyes fluttering closed as his mouth was taken in a slow, drawn-out kiss. He parted his lips, allowing his master to taste every inch of his mouth. He gave a little moan of pleasure, his master's fingers sliding up into his hair and caressing him in that certain way that made his scalp tingle.

"Don't say that, John" Shawn pulled back, heart aching as he realized his pet felt cheaper because of the life he'd lead before they'd met "Don't you ever think you've robbed me of anything. You're the best thing I've ever had in my life, and I know it was God whisperin' in my ear the night I decided to go out with the boys. The moment I saw you, I thought you were an angel and I knew I had to have you as my own. You're perfect."

John stole a small kiss, smiling gratefully, "You spoil me, you know that? You're too good to me."

Shawn grinned, "I try."

John pulled himself together, pushing his master back until he had them flat out on the bed. He straddled the older man's waist, running his hand down his bare chest. He shuddered, always turned on by his sexy master. He leant down, placing a worshipful kiss right along the dip of Shawn's clavicle.

"Let me make you feel good tonight, Master" John purred, trailing little kisses down the man's torso "Let me make you forget all about your aches…"

Shawn watched his pet work his way down his body, those luscious raven locks spilling down around his face. Yes, his pet was perfect, virgin or no. Through all his vanity and more vulnerable moments of insecurity, he loved John. His beauty was one of a kind, over-confident while still having a softer side. This was his pet, his heart, and nothing could change that love.

Surely John knew that?

* * *

**Sorry it's so short (again) I promise that each chapter will be at least six word pages long, but I want to make sure everything gets divided up the right way so each scene shines as much as it needs to. I haven't had a plot this complicated in ages.**


	5. Chapter 5

**I realize the reference is really vague and only I get it, but the cat? Columbia? **

**This fabulous author called '****theskyeskye'**** wrote an awesome fic called Rocky Horror Wrestling Show (parody of Rocky Horror Picture Show) and Evan played Columbia. The fic is over on LiveJournal in the community '****violentpretties****', you should check it out if you've got the time! Really good.**

* * *

Evan sat at computer desk in the corner of the living room, favorite dark-framed glasses perched on his face. He surfed the internet, clicking around idly, legs tucked up on the chair Indian style. The bulky computer chair nearly swallowed his form, but it was so plush that the ravenette couldn't convince himself to get one more his size. His blue and white pinstriped pajamas were a size too big, the classic style that he adored. Long sleeved button up shirt, the bottoms of his pants worn from running around the house in them all the time.

Evan had his headphones over his ears, the song "(Do You Wanna Date My) Avatar" by The Guild filling his head. He didn't hear the door open, didn't even feel his master's presence. Chris had gone out earlier, something about getting his orders for the next few days. While Evan himself found himself pretty free, he was afraid his master would be extremely busy.

A hand shot out in front of him, fingers delicately holding a delicious chocolate covered cherry candy. Evan gasped, jumping a bit before he shed his headphones. He snatched it, turning to find his master standing there smiling at him.

"Chrissy" Evan purred, legs unfolding so he could scoot forward and hug the blonde around the waist. He nuzzled into his stomach, smiling at the feel of the toned muscles against his cheek. A strong hand caressed through his hair, the sensation welcoming.

"I brought you a gift" Chris said, holding out the box when his pet pulled away.

"You know these are my weakness" Evan took the chocolates, the cherry-candy was his favorite. He set it by the computer, popping the single chocolate between his lips.

"I know, but you deserve to indulge once in a while" Chris gave his pet a peck on the lips, getting just a brief hint of chocolate left on his mouth "And…it's to make up for tonight."

Evan's smile crumbled into a pout, "What do you mean?"

"I'm sorry, sweetling" Chris traced his thumb over the swell of his pet's cheek, feeling horrible for taking that bright smile away "I have a meeting tomorrow morning in Orlando. I'm going to have to drive all night, so I probably won't be back until tomorrow afternoon."

"Seriously?" Evan whined.

"I'm sorry, Evvy, that's just how it worked out" Chris kneeled down in front of his pet, running his hands up the sides of his legs "I know I promised you the night together, but I can't get out of this. You think you can forgive me and last the night without me?"

Evan gave a heavy sigh, but the warm hands on his legs made him smile. He nodded, the blonde leaning up on a his knees and kissing his cheek.

"My Heaven" Chris whispered against the skin, making the ravenette shiver. Chris noted this reaction, grinning as he slid his hands up and under the nightshirt his pet wore. Evan gave a moan as his hands met warm skin, thumbs massaging into the smooth lines of his hip bones. He felt his pet react to his touch, raven lashes fluttering closed to hide their hazel treasures.

Chris easily lifted his pet up, the compact body wrapping itself around him. He carried Evan over to the couch, laying the flushed ravenette out along the cushions.

"Here, Master?" Evan whispered innocently, blinking up at him.

Chris answered by slipping Evan's glasses off and setting them aside. He covered his pet with his larger body and took his mouth with his own. Long minutes went by, filled with hungry kisses as they moved against one another in a slow grind. He loved how his pet undulated beneath him, easily taking his weight and arching up into him. They fit together so well, Evan's thighs simply made to cradle his own hips.

Chris pulled back, looking his love over. Though the blush staining his cheeks hid most of them, Evan's freckles were one of his most endearing features. They were dusted all over his shoulders and arms, over his cheeks. The make-up girls covered most of them for the camera, but Chris adored him, He cupped Evan's cheek, his thumb tracing over a scatter of them.

Chris took him in another kiss.

Once he knew he'd lit his boy up, Chris snaked a hand down between them and unbuttoned the front of those pajama pants. He broke from the ravenette's lips, giving his palm a wet lick before slipping between the folds of cloth.

Evan tossed his head back, mewing sweetly as his master's slick hand wrapped around his hardening length. He came to full-blown desire under such a sure touch, breath picking up a bit as he was worked so expertly.

"Let me give you something to make up for it, precious" Chris murmured, mouthing the smooth line of his jaw in a way that set the ravenette on fire "A little something to keep you warm tonight."

Evan began to moan, head thrown back against the couch as his master started nibbling lightly at his neck. He rocked into the touch, hands grasping at the blonde's shoulders. Chris knew just how to manipulate his body, knew how to build up the fire inside him and keep it smoldering for hours.

But now? Chris just wanted to give his pet some sweet pleasure to remember for the long, lonely night ahead. He hated breaking promises to his sweet little precious, so he hoped to make up for it when he got home tomorrow afternoon. He couldn't wait to pamper his boy, hoping to spend the rest of the day reminding him just how much he loved him.

Evan clawed meekly at his master's hands, even after so many years as a sub he flushed at the thought of doing these kinds of intimate acts somewhere other than the bedroom. They'd done it so many places, ranging from the locker room to the other masters houses.

"M-Master…"

"That's it, Evvy" Chris urged, releasing his love's skin from his bites. He was always so careful about leaving marks on his boy, he didn't mar him anymore than he had to. He wasn't like some of the others, he didn't enjoy seeing big hickeys on his boy's neck when he went out into the ring. He was always afraid of hurting his beautiful Evan, having a smaller pet had always made him more careful. Not to mention his pet was shy when he wasn't lost in passion, though bubbly with the people he knew or wanted to get to know…with strangers, he was reminiscent of a child hiding behind his mother's skirt.

Evan moaned loudly, "I'm close…please, Master…"

Chris eased his pet's pants down around his knees, "Let me taste you, precious."

Evan was confused for only a moment before he felt a warm, wet mouth engulf his aching cock. He tried not to thrash, fingers digging into his master's thick shoulders as he was sucked on. He hadn't forgotten how good Chris was at this, but he hadn't expected it. His master knew just how much pressure to use, how to touch him, how to hit that bundle of nerves beneath the head…

Evan spilled, back arching up as his master swallowed down every drop.

Minutes later, Chris gently fixed his pet's pants and shirt. He'd ruffled his baby up, but damn if Evan didn't look beautiful laying there flushed and panting. He took a breathless kiss, greedily swallowing down the little moans his pet let out.

Once Evan came down from his high, he grinned into the kiss and reached down for the pants of his master, "Let me make you feel good too, Master."

Chris took the boy's hand, pulling it back and laying it against the couch, "That was just for you, sweetling. I'll save my own pleasure for when I get back tomorrow, alright?"

Evan pouted, but it didn't last long before it became a smile, "All the more reason to come back to me, right?"

"Yeah" Chris got up, helping his pet to his feet "I have to go now or I'll never make it."

Evan nodded sadly, wrapping his arms around the blonde, "One more kiss?"

Chris complied, giving him a lengthy goodbye that left them both breathless.

"Sweet dreams" Chris murmured against the boy's lips, then tore himself away "You keep kissing me like that, Evvy, and I'll never leave."

Evan giggled, bliss still running through him as he watched his master slide on his coat, "Bye, Master."

"Bye, love."

And Chris left him all alone there.

Evan sighed, reaching down and taking his glasses up. He slipped them onto his face, the room coming back into focus. He plopped back down at the computer, waving off the fire screensaver to bring up his Gaia account. He decided to spent his evening eating chocolate covered cherries and updating his avatar,

Columbia mewed softly, rubbing up against his chair.

"I know, sweetie" Evan cooed to her, reaching down and scratching behind her ear "It's ok, he'll be back tomorrow. Don't be too angry with him."

He cracked open the box of chocolate, mouth water, "You'll have to give him this, sweetie. He does know how to sweeten your daddy up, doesn't he?"

The pretty tabby watched her owner all but inhale the chocolates.

**xXxXxXx**

Later that night, Evan was fast asleep. His small form was curled up under the thick blanket, chest rising and falling slowly with each breath. The bed was too large for just one person, but without his master with him Evan could only take up so much space.

The sound of a door slamming made the ravenette stir, but he didn't quite wake up. But the sound penetrated his dreams, twisting them up into something perverse. He flipped over onto his back, his hand coming up to rub at his eyes. He slowly woke up, dragging himself out of the dreams to keep himself from invisible harm. He blinked up at the ceiling, a softer sound meeting his ears.

It was the sound of something moving around downstairs, like furniture being moved around.

Evan groaned, "Stupid cat."

The small ravenette dragged himself out of bed, swinging his legs over the edge. His bare feet barely brushed the cold floor, he winced before finally standing up. He padded towards the door, slipping out into the hall. Evan rubbed at his eyes with one hand, the other sliding along the wall as he made his way towards the stairs. He gave a giant yawn, not even close to awake yet.

"If you've knocked over anything…" Evan mumbled, taking the stairs slowly so as not to topple over "Chrissy said the next time you knocked something over, I'd have to keep…" he paused to yawn again, then went on muttering "…you in a carrier. Hate carriers."

Evan stopped halfway down the stairs, blinking to clear his vision. He looked into the living room, a room he had helped decorate and knew like the back of his hand. The tan leather armchair his master loved had been moved, scooted against the wall now and leaving a wide open area.

Evan was a bit confused, he continued down the stairs. At the base, Columbia waited for him. He scooped her up into his arms, nuzzling his face against her downy-soft head. He cuddled her close as he walked into the living room, looking around for anything else that had been moved. Nothing else, just the chair.

He let Columbia jump onto said chair, watching her settle before bending down and grabbing the arms. He was about to heave it back into place when he was tackled from the side, taken to the floor. Evan woke up pretty damn fast after that, kicking out but failing to get away. He struggled to breath, a solid hand latching around his throat and dragging him to the middle of the floor.

"Let _go_!" Evan screamed, struggling against his attacker. He stopped though when he saw who it was, saw the man's face. Their fight paused, the other grinning down at him.

"A-AJ?" Evan stuttered out, disbelief written all over his face.

"Hey Evvy" AJ chuckled "What's up?"For a sick moment, Evan thought this was a joke. He thought this was just a prank, that the man was just screwing with him. But that dark glint in his friend's eyes told him all he needed to know.

"Let me up" Evan tried to move away slowly, but AJ's grip was tight on his forearms "AJ…don't do this…just get off me…"

"Do you know how long I've wanted you, Evan?" AJ asked off-handedly, fingertips digging into the boy's flesh "Do you know how fucking pissed off I was when I found out you had a master? That you were some bitch-boy for Y2J-ackass? It's so unfair! I'm way better than that stuck-up jerk!"

"Really?!" Evan snapped, pushing at the man's chest in vain "Cause you're not doing a very good job of proving it! Now stop this!"

"But why?" AJ whined, pouting "I've finally got what I want. Shouldn't I thoroughly enjoy it?"

Evan found his mouth stolen in a harsh kiss, crying out against it and trying to shove the bigger man off him. He struggled under his heavy weight, getting only a few blows in before AJ pulled back and punched him hard in the jaw. Stunned, Evan didn't even think to bite off the tongue that snaked into his mouth. His shirt was ripped off down the middle, buttons scattering silently to the carpet around him. While one hand came up to wrap around his throat, another groped over his bare chest.

"You are such a little thing" AJ groaned, pulling away and looking the younger man over like a piece of meat "I'm going to enjoy this _way_ too much."

"AJ, don't" Evan begged, hissing in pain when the man's nails raked over his stomach "Leave and I won't tell Chris, I swear."

"No, Ev, I _want_ you to tell your master" AJ nuzzled the boy's cheek, loving that he was so close to tears "Tell him _all_ about it…in detail."

Evan managed to get in a good punch, partially winding the older man. He flipped onto his stomach, struggling to crawl away. But the moment he'd raised up on his hands and knees, the hand was back on his neck and it shoved him down onto the floor. He gasped into the carpet, his arms twisted up behind his back. He kept squirming, but it did no good as a knee settled in the dip of his back and pinned him rather effectively.

Real fear took over Bourne as cold metal clamped down over his wrists, clicking filling the air.

"No!" Evan shouted, trying to pull his wrists apart but failing. Handcuffs, he knew that metallic biting in his wrist anywhere. Chris had used handcuffs on him before when he was punished, but only a handful of times and they'd always been lined with thick leather inside so as not to hurt him. The more he struggled, the more they chafed his skin.

AJ grabbed the collar of Evan's shirt, yanking it down his back to expose the creamy skin along his shoulder blades. His eyes drank in the sight hungrily, mouth watering at the sprinkling of freckles that he found there on the skin. He yanked the pajama bottoms and boxer briefs down over the curve of the boy's ass, stroking his palm over the swell of one cheek.

"I could make this good for you, Evan" AJ growled, leaning down and dropping a kiss on the back of the boy's neck "I could make you enjoy every second of this. Your body could sing…if only you denounced your precious master."

Evan choked back a whimper, "I…I love Chris, I would never betray him…"

"Too bad, this could've been so pleasant for you" AJ sighed, then let out a little laugh "Oh well! One of us should enjoy it!"

Evan's eyes widened as his hips were picked up, not quite on his knees but his legs spread enough to reveal him. He whimpered, more vulnerable than he ever wanted to be with his pants bunched around his calves. He kept trying to squirm away, testing the handcuffs, even crying out for help. He was strong, damn it! He fought men twice his size in the ring every week, why couldn't he get away?

Evan didn't freeze completely until an insistent hand clamped down on the back of his neck, the man's solid cock brushing his entrance. He started begging his friend, trying to appeal to his conscious, but all his incoherent pleadings morphed into screams as he was impaled. He felt himself tear, blood slicking the way after only a handful of rough thrusts.

Evan thrashed, the pain burning through all his limbs. AJ moaned in his ear, bile rising in Evan's throat as he was used so violently. He was pinned down, ripped, pushed into the floor with each thrust. His tears fell in thick streams, slicking his cheeks as he tried not to sob. He turned his head, opening his eyes long enough to see his couch. Memories of earlier came back, not even a few hours ago his master was giving him the utmost pleasure right there.

And now, not even feet away…Chris's property was being trespassed upon.

Though Evan wished desperately for it to be over, time went by achingly slow and he felt every second as if it were a lifetime. His ears echoed with his own screams, and that was all he had to concentrate on.

AJ found his release, spilling deep inside the smaller man before pulling out carelessly.

When AJ stood up and took a step away, all the feeling came back to Evan. He whimpered softly, closing his eyes and resting his cheek against the carpet. He hurt all over, he couldn't stop his chest from stuttering in sobs. He shuddered, blood and cum trickling from his torn entrance. He moved his arms, forgetting once more they were handcuffed until he felt the metal biting into his skin. More of his own blood was slicking his wrists, making the slide of metal both painful and slimy.

AJ caught his breath as he tucked himself away and zipped his pants, looking down at the boy and at his handy work. Stark bite marks marred the boy's pale skin now, showing he'd been violated if the blood wasn't the biggest indicator. He licked his lips, still tasting the salt of sweat and fear on them. He pulled out the black zipper case JBL had gotten for him, calmly opening it up and peering inside.

AJ laid it on the table, the sound of Evan's whimpers in his ear as he removed the vial from the fold. He shook the clear liquid, peering at it curiously. It just had that silver tint, telling him it was what he had requested. He screwed off the cap, humming as he set it on the table. He got out the syringe, mumbling a few lyrics as he shed the sleeve of a fresh needle.

"Don't you just hate it when you've got a song stuck in your head?" AJ complained, sticking the needle in the syringe and making sure it was firm "I think you might know it."

He stick the syringe in the silvery toned liquid, slowly filling it as he sang out a few words, "_And who am I…to kill a stranger after all that we've been through?_"

Evan openly sobbed, eyes clenching shut as he heard his master's lyrics sung back to him.

AJ held it up once it was full, running an expert eye over the vial. He flicked it, pushing down on the lever a bit until the excess dripped down on the carpet. He couldn't have little Evan dying of an air bubble in his system, that was for sure. He walked over, grabbing the boy by his shirt sleeve and flipping him over.

God, the sight was delicious. The poor thing was still crying, tears shining on his cheeks and shirt ripped. The innocent blue pinstriped material pooled around his slim shoulders, down around his elbows as well from where AJ had ripped it down his back as well. Not to mention how his pants were barely clinging to his legs now.

"Just relax, Evvy, I've got a little something for your master in particular" AJ faux-soothed, forcing the younger man's legs apart to reveal the smooth skin of his inner thighs "Be good for a second and I'll make the pain go away, alright boy?"

Evan blinked at him, confused and a little more than frightened he'd be raped again. His mind had slipped into a bit of shock, only knowing that he didn't want to be hurt again.

"When you wake up, your precious Chris will be back" AJ scowled, aiming carefully before jabbing the boy in the thigh with the needle and pushing down on the plunger "Give him a kiss for me."

Evan cried out, he hated needles and the sharp pain did nothing to calm his nerves, "Shit, what the hell is that? What did you just put in me?"

A wave of dizziness hit him, eyelashes fluttering at the sensation. AJ yanked the needle out with a blank expression, getting up and putting it back into the case. He zipped it up, shoving it in his jacket pocket.

AJ took a moment to take in the moment, savoring the feeling of having what he'd wanted for so long. Evan, his personal siren since they'd met at TNA, was on the floor…broken, bleeding…it was all very satisfying. He felt so much better, so relieved, it felt like a weight had been lifted up off his shoulders. It had been perfect, much more gratifying than he thought it'd be. It almost nourished him, taking in the boy's pain and making it into something that would sustain him.

AJ paused, looking up at the ceiling, "Wow, that sounded psychotic."

Evan was out cold, legs still parted and arms pulled behind him painfully.

AJ pouted, gazing at him with an artistic eye, "That isn't a pretty picture for Jeri-Ho to come home to, now is it? I guess I'll have to fix it…"

AJ knelt down by the boy's side, pulling his pants up around his waist again. Though he couldn't stop himself from touching a bit, he buttoned the shirt with what few buttons were left. He kept the handcuffs, and he smirked when he saw the blood seeping into his pants. Though he looked debauched, Evan was presentable again.

"I knew you'd be so sweet, too bad you had a master. This could've been every night" AJ sighed, leaning up until he was hovering over the ravenette "Oh well, Evvy…it was never meant to be a permanent thing. If you live through this, I hope we can still be friends."

AJ couldn't stop himself from taking a last, long kiss.

He hopped up to his feet, giving the room a once over as if he'd never seen it before, "Sleep while you can, sweetie. Your friends? The other little subs? They won't be getting off nearly as easy. Sure, you might die, but I've heard some of the plans from the others…"

AJ whistled lowly, "Well, let's just say they are impressive. Scars will be left, let me tell you that."

He looked back down at the boy, "But look at me, rambling while you're trying to rest. It's rude, I know. I'll leave. I think I may have overstayed my welcome. Don't get up, I know the way out."

AJ strolled back to the front door he'd lock picked, stopping by the thermostat, "Hey Ev, you don't mind if I turn it down a bit, do you? It's kinda hot."

AJ turned it down, smirking, //The cold should jump-start the virus.//

With a last call goodbye and a wish for happy dreams, AJ slipped out of the house and made his journey back to his car parked down the street.

* * *

**What do you think of that? I had four days of snow and this is the first days fruits. I'm actually proud of myself**


	6. Chapter 6

**That last chapter is the tone for the entire story, so don't squick out on me now. AJ's a psychotic bitch, isn't he? Stuff gets E-X-_fucking_-PLICIT, just so you know. Rated M, remember?**

**Just so everyone knows…totally throwing up during this thing.**

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* * *

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_The next day…_

AJ whistled as he ducked under Shawn Michaels car, armed with duct tape and a large magnet. He judged the position, looking for the right spot to make this work. He found the black box that controlled the GPS, only breaking his happy tune when he had to bite off two thick strips of tape. He laid them over the magnet, finally taping it to the black box. He bit off another strip, taping it down length-wise.

Once he was sure it was secure, he rolled out from under the car and put his hat back on his head.

AJ made his way across the street, pulling out his cellphone. He hopped into the front seat of his car, flipping open the device and dialing a number he memorized. He only had to wait two rings before it was answered.

"Hey-hey-hey" AJ grinned to himself "It's all done. You say he doesn't know his way around Tampa? Yeah? Then he won't be going anywhere useful. I got a specialized magnet that won't short-circuit it completely, but it'll sure as hell glitch out. You've got plenty of time."

**xXx**

Across town, in the shopping district, JBL himself smirked into his own cellphone.

"And you're sure that Irvine won't get in for another hour?" Layfield looked down at his Rolex, it was just noon "I need this to line up perfectly. If I know that over-sensitive Christian bastard, and I do, he'll rush off without a second thought."

Once it was confirmed, Layfield gestured to his driver. The man nodded, starting up the limo and pulling out into the street.

"Call the others" Layfield informed the younger man "Tell them to get into place and be ready. The dominos are gonna fall, and they need to be ready for it."

When he knew the other was going to do so, John hung up.

He smirked to himself, excited to be so close to having a pretty glitter-doll all to himself.

The solid separation window was raised between the front and the back, the driver letting his boss have the privacy he'd need for this deed.

**xXxXxXx**

Morrison smiled as he passed a group of girls, getting several appreciative looks. They didn't recognize him, thanks to the shades hiding his eyes, but they seemed to like him anyways. He continued down the sidewalk, for as much as he loved the attention he would never do anything to encourage random strangers. He belonged to Shawn, and he craved his attention and love the most.

John stopped in front of one of his favorite stores, a mid-step freeze as he gazed into it's display window. The clothes on the male manikin were amazing, they looked like they'd really compliment his skin tone. That shade of tan-

"No" John stated out loud, sliding his sunglasses up into his hair. He couldn't take his eyes away from the window display, but his feet didn't move. He remembered the promise he'd made to his master, and he knew he couldn't go inside. No more shopping for another month, at least. He had to invest, save up, think of his future.

John leaned against the window, sighing heavily. He hated this, shopping was like his apple in the Garden of Eden. It was tempting as hell, but he was bound by his promise. Shawn even had his wallet at the moment, so he couldn't be tempted. Maybe if he went in there and flashed a smile, peddled his looks a bit, they'd give him something free…

//Now I sound like a crack whore// John rolled his eyes at his reflection, stepping back an fluffing his hair a bit //Next thing I know, I'll shaking and offering to suck dick for Converse.//

The absurdity made him smile.

A flash of a familiar white limo came into the glass, pulling up to the curve right behind him. John turned around, peering at the stretch limo carefully. Though lacking the bull horns and golden emblem, it was a near carbon-copy of…

The driver stepped out, a man he'd seen before.

"Mr. Morrison" the man greeted him politely, walking down the line of the limo and gesturing to the back seat door "Mr. Layfield would like to offer you a ride."

"Bradshaw?" John murmured thoughtfully, brow creasing. JBL was an ok guy, though he had kind of tricked Shawn into ridiculous storyline about poverty and money and all that crap. It had been annoying, and his master had stressed over it for a several nights. Apparently it had struck a chord with him. But JBL had always had a smirk for him personally, a perfect gentleman even though a bit pushy.

Shawn always got annoyed when he came back to their dressing room to find an arrangement of white roses from 'An Admirer.' Though his master had no idea who it was, John had always secretly known it was JBL. It was a flattering gesture, and since JBL had never pushed it more than that, John had never seen a reason to tell him to stop.

JBL knew he had a master, and he (kind of) respected that.

"I'm just going a couple streets down" John explained, smiling.

"He said to tell you that someone so beautiful shouldn't have to walk among the common people" the driver said with a straight face.

John laughed a little, flattered by this, "Ok, you've convinced me."

John walked over to the limo, smiling when he got the door opened for him. He slipped inside, sighing at the feel of the leather seats beneath him. The door closed, the tinted windows shielded them from any outside eyes. He found Bradshaw sitting farther down the seat than him, his usual drink in the door holder.

"Hey there, JBL" John crossed his legs, cocking his head at the man "Thanks for the ride. I can't believe I saw this limo, since you don't wrestle anymore."

"Just because I quit the WWE doesn't mean I stopped being rich, boy" Layfield offered a grin of his own, gesturing to the mini-bar he had "Can I tempt you with a drink?"

John waved off the offer politely, "I really shouldn't."

"Of course" the limo started moving at a languid pace "How have you been, Johnny?"

"Going through a bit of withdraw" John replied honestly, lifting up his foot a little to examine his shoes and thinking of how nice the ones in the window had been "I'm taking a leaf out of your book, you know? I'm going to start…saving and what-not."

"Really?" JBL raised an eyebrow "I never took you as one to have 'ta save. You live more in the moment, dontcha?"

"Yeah, I try" John shot the man a small smile "I'm glad you understand."JBL took a sip from his whiskey, "Michaels put you on a budget, did he?"

John turned to give him a confused look, "What?"

"You are his…well, his boy" JBL offered politely "And here I thought ya got yourself a proper sugar daddy."

John thought he was just teasing and laughed at this, "Yeah, me too. But Shawn knows best."

"Maybe" the older man mused, setting his drink aside "I must admit, John, I have an ulterior motive for seeing you."

Morrison tilted his head back, thinking this over and finding no threat, "Yeah?"

"Yes indeed" the brunette reached into his jacket, but paused "Would you be up to listenin' to an offer?"

John's eyebrows shot up into his hairline, "Like a business offer?"

"In a way, yes."

"Alright then."

JBL pulled out an envelope, handing it to the pretty boy. John took it, opening the flap and peering inside. He gasped, making the older man smirk.

"That's twenty thousand up front" JBL began off-handedly, acting like it was no big deal as he rattled off such large numbers "You'll get a check each weak for five thousand dollars, another twenty thousand at the end of each year. That's just luxury money, for all else will be paid for by me personally. That's meals, transport, vacations."

"Oh…oh my God" John stuttered, his breath actually caught in his throat. He did the math up in his head, his mind promptly turning into goo once he'd hit a million.

"I'll do it!" John all but shouted, calming himself down as soon as he realized he sounded like a little kid "I mean, I'll do it. Whatever the job is, you've got your guy. Er…what exactly _is_ this awesomely paying job?"

"Well, boy, that's easy" Layfield flashed him a smug smirk "All you have to do is leave Michaels and come be mine and mine alone."

John froze, fingers tightening on the envelope. He looked down at the money, regret flowing through him. He stroked the paper almost lovingly, the offer financially tempting as hell. He took a long moment to fully grieve for all the pretty clothes he'd thought of buying and now couldn't. With a long sigh, he tucked the check back into the envelope and folded down the flap.

"You're cruel" John gave an exaggerated pout, handing the man his check back "But I'm going to have to give you back your apple and decline. I love Shawn, and I could never even consider this offer. It's extremely flattering, _really_, but I just can't."

"Are you sure?" Layfield accepted his check back, slipping it into his jacket pocket once more "Nothin' can change your mind? Anything, really, and it's yours."

"I'm sorry, no."

"Not even more money?"

John shook his head.

"That's just too bad" JBL sighed "Oh well, ya when some, ya lose some, huh?"

"Yeah" John looked out the window, seeing that they'd passed his stop "Uh, I have to get out back there."

"It's just too bad for you I'm the kind of man who just don't lose any" JBL continued, bringing out a cloth and a small bottle from the hidden compartment in his door "I'm a man who likes to get what he wants, and I usually do."

John wasn't paying attention, he was concentrating on trying to get the door open, "Can you tell him to stop?"

The older man soaked the cloth in the chloroform, covering his hand with the material to make the job easier, "Almost too bad it had to be this way."

John reacted naturally when a hand clamped down over his mouth, he gasped. This was his biggest mistake, and the moment it happened he knew it was. His hands shot up, clawing at the man's arms and fingers. The harder he tried to pull away, the tighter Layfield held onto him. He tried to think of a move to hurt the other, but his mind started to go fuzzy. The near-sweetly scented cloth over his mouth was doing something to him, the more he breathed in…the less he could think straight.

John's thrashing turned more sluggish, eyes drooping shut as his hands stilled.

"That's it, beautiful…just breath deep" JBL grinned, feeling the boy go limp in his arms. He counted out the moments, pulling the cloth away right before Morrison passed out. He tossed the handkerchief to the other seat, knowing he'd need it later.

John gasped in a hoarse breath of fresh air, slumping forward on the seat. He had no idea what was wrong with him, but everything was spinning. He swayed, clawing at the seats weakly before rolling right off. He smacked against the floor, but all he felt was a throbbing in his head. He wanted to get up, but he couldn't quite figure out how to get his body to cooperate with him.

Layfield shed his jacket carefully, folding it up and laying it on the seat beside him. He rested his hat on top of it, brushing a bit of lint off the top before going to work on his tie. He folded it as well, resting it just beneath his hat. He looked down at the boy spread out on his floor, perverse desire making his pants a bit too tight for comfort.

Layfield grabbed a handful of raven hair, dragging the softly whimpering man to the opposite seat and bending him over it, "Now what kind of gentleman would I be if I let you pass out all together?"

Morrison pushed at the leather seat, finding no leverage from where he was kept bent over. A hand brushed over his ass, making him jerk like a startled horse. The hand in his hair pulled him up onto his knees a bit, and he tried to fight it when his shirt was roughly yanked up over his head. The a/c stung his bare flesh, goosebumps breaking out on his skin. Tears formed in his eyes, the man's hand leaving his hair so both could roam over his sculpted torso.

"You are such a pretty thing" Layfield's greasy voice hissed into his ear, the pleasure the other man got from groping him was enough to make him gag. He tried to cry out for help, but he couldn't get much out. He tried to scream, and a raspy sound escaped his tender throat.

"D-Don't" John managed to murmur, his lips numb. He was bent back down over the leather seat, unable to sit back up when he got a bit nauseas. His limbs felt so heavy, his chest aching from the heavy thumping of his heart trying to push the blood to the rest of him. Whatever had been on that cloth had slowed him down, almost anesthetized him.

"Oh, I'm gonna" JBL all but ripped open the fly of the ravenette's designer jeans, yanking them down to reveal the smooth curves of his ass "Naughty boy, goin' commando. No doubt you were gonna give Michaels a sweet something when came to get you…but I think I'll take rights to it. You were just all right out in the open…unprotected…"

Morrison shuddered in disgust as fingers danced over his entrance, barely slipping into his heat before pulling away.

"Kinda tight for a whore" Layfield grumbled, grabbing the lube out another compartment in the nearest wall. He worked open his pants, sighing as he took out his aching length and gave it a few strokes to warm himself up. He slicked his length with lube, making sure Morrison was the only one who'd get pain out of this encounter. He wiped the excess off on the younger man's jeans, deciding to leave him unprepared.

"I'm bein' pretty damn generous, so be grateful" JBL growled, grabbing the pretty boy by the hips and leaning down to breath across his neck "I want ya 'ta scream for all you think you're worth, boy."

John finally did find his voice when he was torn into, the sound muffled by the leather. The lube didn't help protect him, after only two hard thrusts he was chafing up.

JBL looked down, grinning when he saw a tint of crimson on his cock. He upped his force, snickering when he saw more blood. It was a sick delight for him, and he wasn't worried about catching something. Shawn was a perfectionist at heart, and he would've kept his bitch clean.

John sobbed, palms coming up to shove at the seat once more. The bigger man pushed him back down, keeping him pinned even as his nails bit into the leather. It hurt so much…he'd never had a trick be so rough. Even when he stripped, those men used him quickly and left, and they wore condoms. No matter what kind of filth he spread his legs for, he did it to eat and to keep his job.

This was…he could feel blood trickling down his thighs, and he hated that it was his own.

John's mind drifted a bit as the man above him continued to take his pleasure, using the young wrestler's body. This wasn't helping his self-esteem, those issues he had talked with Shawn about coming up. No man had ever fucked him without a condom between them before, Shawn had been the only one he'd ever trusted. He hated the feeling of having another man inside him, and he truly fought to get free.

//Forgive me, Master…//

"You couldn't have just taken the God-damn money, could you?" JBL groaned, savoring the tight heat enveloping him "You could've been my…_perfect_…" he punctuated each word with a harder thrust "…little…sex doll…but no, you have stay 'loyal' to your master, dontcha?""Never!" John grunted, crying out softly as the man's perfectly manicured nails scored his belly "Bastard."

JBL gave a hard, satisfied grunt as he finally shot his load in the beautiful young man. He slumped over him, hands memorizing each perfect plane of John's body. Even with John crying beneath him, Layfield couldn't find himself to regret this. In fact, he couldn't keep the grin off his face. He tucked himself back in his pants, doing them back up.

"Michaels is damn lucky to have you sucking his dick every night, boy" JBL sighed, snatching the cloth back up and laying it over the squirming man's mouth "Breathe."

John held his breath, but his vision was already dark around the edges. After a silent struggle and a rough gasp, the ravenette slowly slipped away into a deep sleep. Layfield tossed the cloth in the small trashcan he had embedded next to the mini-bar, deciding he'd throw the evidence away later.

"Sweet dreams while you can have them" JBL grumbled, working the boy's pants up over the swell of his ass. He didn't bother buttoning them, Morrison was much more enticing with just a bit of skin showing. The older man crouched and worked his way over to the other seat, plopping down on it with a sigh. He took a moment to take it all in, nearly giddy with what he'd finally done.

In celebration, Layfield opened up the cabinet by the seat and slipped his hand in the monogrammed box waiting there. He took out a cigar, bit off the end, and lit it up with his gold-plated lighter. He sucked in the bitter smoke, the nicotine rush only blending with his post-orgasmic haze. He sat back in his seat, pleased.

The privacy window rolled down, revealing that they were heading to the edges of town.

"Finished, sir?"

"Very" JBL grinned widely "Head for that little seedy bar my big boys like, will ya?"

The driver nodded, taking a right at the next street to get to the edge of town. It was just late afternoon, the sun wouldn't be setting for hours.

JBL stuck his cigar between his lips, using his hands to dig his phone out of his jacket pocket and flick it open. He scanned the call list, choosing a certain number before putting the device to his ear. He removed the cigar, flicking the ashes in his crystal ashtray so as not to get an on the carpet. Speaking of which…some blood had gotten on the cream surface.

"Damn" he muttered, raising his voice "Make sure Hector cleans this thing out good, ya hear me?"

His driver nodded obediently.

Someone answered the phone, "Well there you are! I toldya I'd call you today, didn't I? Yeah, yeah…I got a present for you and your boys. I need you outside the bar in a few minutes, alright?"

JBL hung up before the other could answer, laying the device aside. The next twenty minutes went by smoothly, he sucked away at his expensive cigar and just waited. His tongue was aching for a drink, but he needed to wait until he dropped off the baggage. The scenery got uglier, darker even with the sun out. The terrain was rougher, filled with bars and whore houses.

Outside Tampa was an ugly place to be when the sun went down.

JBL put out the cigar, leaving it to smolder in the ashtray. He got up and grabbed a fistful of raven hair, all but dragging the boy's limp body back to himself. He sat back on the seat, bringing Morrison between his legs. He pet him like a cat, smoothing out his hair and wiping away his tears.

He was an inviting picture, that was for sure.

The limo stopped outside a specific bar, the door only unlocking when he gave a nod to his driver. After a moment, the door opened to reveal one of his number one thugs. A big man, no hair, sunglasses covering his eyes. He was a biker, driven only by the steady supply of money. JBL owned his ass, and this thug owned the asses of another league of bikers.

"Joe" JBL flashed a smile.

Joe pushed his sunglasses up onto his head, eyes glued on the boy between his supplier's legs, "That's a pretty piece of meat, Bradshaw."

"He is, isn't he?" JBL chuckled "Told ya I got a nice present for ya. He's yours for free…and only a few rules."

The man cocked an eyebrow, but he nodded in agreement, "Name 'em."

"You have to pass him around as much as possible…and you have to leave some scars."

Joe grinned at this, "The only questions left is…boss…is whether you want him dead or alive by the end of it?"

"Oh, I dunno" JBL passed the boy off to the thug, the big man easily taking Morrison into his arms. He flashed Joe a big smile, feeling like laughing a this. Shawn's number one bitch…his constant companion for almost an entire decade…a boy he had spent all his time protecting was now in the arms of a rough biker who was going to fuck him and pass him around like a toy.

"Surprise me."

JBL shut the door, not feeling an ounce of remorse as he left the young, drugged Superstar to the wolf pack. He'd gotten his use of him, and he wanted to be the last to get the full experience out of John Morrison. If those bikers didn't slit his throat when he was done, they were sure as hell going to ruin him for any other man. They would hopefully mar him so badly that he'd never be able to show his face on screen again, in public even. Morrison was a spoiled pretty boy at heart, and if he was scarred up…he's break down, and be nothing more than a trembling mess who didn't want anyone to look at him.

Michaels would never have his perfect little doll back, what he would get would be a broken spirited boy who's been used like the whore he'd been bred to be.

JBL was just reaching for that drink he'd been wanting when his phone beeped, signaling he had a text message.

"Damn thing" he muttered, picking it up and fiddling with it until he got the message to pop up. It was from Styles.

_Is JoMo out of the picture?_

JBL texted back to the best of his ability, taking obscenely long, "Don't see why he can't just call me…"

_The boy's gone. Tell the others to get into place. The first two dominos have fallen. Less than an hour before The Court feels it._

JBL put the phone aside and poured him that drink, knowing he'd need to keep it nearby in case one of the others needed him for their own scams.

//Hope they had half the fun I did.//

JBL glanced over on the seat, finding that Morrison's cellphone had fallen out of his pocket.

//Perfect.//

* * *

***all muses look at Morrison***

**Miz: **Really Mor? _Really_?**  
****JoMo: ***wide-eyed look* What?! I've just been raped, leave me alone!**  
Shawn: **Oh look at me, I'm John Morrison! I get into strangers limos cause they think I'm pretty! *struts around, fluffing his hair in exaggeration***  
JoMo: ***blush* Well…I mean…**  
Emono: **You're an idiot**  
Evan: **Agreed  
Who the hell are you to agree, Mr. I'm-Gonna-Check-That-Myserious-Noise-From-Downstairs?!**  
Jericho: ****  
Evan: ***pouts* You weren't there to save me!**  
****Emono: **You're all crazy *looks toward other muses* Don't worry, you guys are gonna get it too**  
Randy: ***clings to Cody* I know you're planning something horrible for him, you evil bitch!**  
Emono: **You're…not wrong


	7. Chapter 7

**Anyone ever watched 'Queer as Folk'? Well, the Jeri-Bourne shower is about as big as Brian and Justin's shower, which (when I watched it) I thought it was HUGE! The sex scene in it didn't hurt either, but whatever.**

* * *

Chris yawned as he got out of his truck, wondering just when the hell he'd be able to get a full nights sleep. He shut the door with a firm slam, locking it with a push to the device on his key-ring. He swung the keys around on his fingers, making his way up the sidewalk. He paused at the front door, wondering if he should have brought chocolates or something.

He loved his Evan, and he'd broken a promise to him.

Chris grasped the doorknob, brow creasing when he felt scratches beneath his palm, //Great, some dog is chewing up my house.//

Chris didn't think a thing of it, he walked inside, "I'm home! You up, sweetling?"

No answer, his baby must still be sleeping. He smiled to himself, removing his coat and hanging it up. He started on his shoes, hopping a bit as he unlaced them one at a time. He kicked them off at the heels, letting them fall where they wanted in the corner. It was kind of cold in here, and he flicked the heat on as he passed the thermostat. He padded toward the kitchen, hoping to grab a beer and relax a bit before his bubbly pet came downstairs.

Chris walked past the living room, almost into the kitchen when his dom instincts went on high alert. The hair on his arms stood up, goosebumps breaking out along his forearm. He back-tracked, stopping at the entryway to the living room. He put his hand on the doorframe, putting his weight on it, nails slowly digging into the painted surface. Disbelief flooded him, anger…shock…

His beloved Evan was laid out on the floor of the living room, out cold with his hands tucked up behind his back.

"E-Evan?" Chris hurried forward, dropping beside his pet and looking him over. He cupped his face with one hand, noting the bruises visible along the tops of his shoulders and neck. A small bruise was blooming along his jaw, like he'd been punched. He reached under the boy's small body, eyes widening when he found metal around his pet's wrists.

"Fuck" Chris spat, hating himself for it but standing up and leaving his pet anyways. He raced through the house, nearly sliding along the wooden floor of the kitchen. He hurried into his den, getting to his desk and started opening drawers. He rifled through them messily, knowing the kit was in here somewhere. He'd bought it when he bought _their_ handcuffs, just in case he lost the keys. He found the leather wrap, untying it and peering inside to see it was right.

Chris ran out, racing to the living room as if he were timed. He slid to his pet's side, ignoring the carpet burns he could feel beneath his palm when he broke his fall.

"I'm sorry, Evvy" Chris murmured, rolling his pet onto his stomach. Evan let out a soft noise, but didn't move. Chris winced when he saw the dried and glistening blood coating the handcuffs, skin had broken beneath the unforgiving metal. The blonde rolled the kit out along the floor, filled with silver instruments for picking locks. He plucked out one of the smaller ones, examining it briefly and determining it was the right one.

It didn't take long for Chris to pick both wrists, tossing the cuffs aside as his pet's arms fell limp to his sides.

"Come on, precious" Chris rolled his boy up into his arms, carrying his limp form bridal style towards the stairs. Thank God for his strength, he moved Evan with ease. His pet gave a few whimpers, but didn't wake up. Chris operated on auto-pilot, wanting to concentrate on just waking Evan up before he analyzed the blood staining his pet's pajama bottoms. He carried his pet straight to the bathroom, not bothering to remove their clothes before he kicked open the shower stall. He stepped inside the spacious shower, going to the wall and turning on the cold water with his elbow.

Chris cringed when the first icy blast hit him, but he made sure it struck his pet, "Wake up, Evan. Be a good boy and open those pretty doe eyes for me."

Chris dropped his legs gently, supporting all of the boy's slight weight by his head and keeping a strong arm around the small of his back. The blonde let the water wash over Evan's face and neck, dried tears washing away while they both got soaked. He slapped his cheek lightly, trying to rouse him.

It took too many long moments before Evan started coughing and sputtering, spitting out the water that hit his mouth. Evan's hands clawed at his master's wet shirt, gasping desperately as he was brought out of his drug-induced sleep. All the pain came back, he cried out when he tried to stand on his own.

Seeing his distress, Chris shut off the water and picked his pet back up. He did the first thing that came naturally, he took his pet to their bedroom and let him settle on their down-soft coverlet. Chris kneeled down in front of him, looking into his sweet face and trying to find the truth. Forgetting the wet hair that plastered to their foreheads and the dripping clothes, they met eyes.

"Evan…what happened?" Chris whispered.

Evan held up his wrist, looking down at it and realizing the shredded skin and blood was his own. He hadn't even felt it during-

Chris watched his pet cringe and try to withdraw on himself, "No, precious, no…don't pull away from me."

Evan sucked in a shaky breath, "I…I'm so sorry, Master…I tried to fight him…but…."

"Evan, look at me" Chris cupped the unmarred side of the boy's face, really looking at him "What happened? Did someone hurt you?"

Evan nodded slowly, wincing at the pain but managing to stand. With his master knelt before him, Evan's trembling fingers worked open the remaining buttons of his shirt. He slid the wet material off, ignoring the gasp from the blonde as he saw the scratch and bite marks over his torso. Tears slipped silently down as his cheeks as he took off his pants as well, revealing the bruising along his hips.

"What the fuck?" Chris stood up, anger surfacing now "Who the hell did this to you!?"

Evan's lower lip trembled, "…I'm _so_ sorry…"

Chris left him standing there, returning moments later with a big fluffy towel.

"Oh God, Evvy, don't cry" Chris soothed, draping the warm material around his pet and making him sit down on the bed. He cupped his chilly cheeks, making the boy look at him while he thumbed away his tears. Evan sniffled back his tears, letting out a little groan when he realized how badly his head hurt. He felt achy…not just a rough sex ache but a sick one. The kind people got when they had the flu…but Evan never got sick. It was why he loved the cold, he could stay out in the snow for hours and not even catch a cold.

"Tell me who did this to you" Chris demanded softly "Tell me exactly what happened."

Evan obeyed his master, "It was AJ."

"Styles did this?!" Chris barked without meaning to "Didn't I tell you, Evan?! I knew he was nothing but trash!"

Evan began to stutter through what had happened, skipping some of the details.

"And he injected me with something…" Evan moved the towel aside, pushing up the leg of his boxers to reveal a tiny puncture wound.

"It was just to drug you" Chris growled.

Evan looked up at the blonde, "May I take a proper shower now?"

"Of course, precious" Chris switched gears, deciding to take care of his pet before he let himself fly into a rage. He stepped back, letting the younger man stand up.

Evan sneezed loudly, getting so dizzy he had to sit back down. He shook his head a little, sniffling.

Chris watched this curiously, offering his hand and helping his pet to his feet, "Are you ok?"

"I…I think so" Evan replied weakly, feeling a bit frail at the moment "I just need some real rest, Master. I'll be fine once I…wash away his touch."

Chris dropped a kiss on his pet's temple, escorting him to the bathroom and shutting the door between him. His kind look immediately twisted into a scowl, all but seeing red as he stomped downstairs. He flexed his neck in a very Orton-like way, resisting the urge to destroy all that was around him. He wanted to just toss it all, take Evan away from here (maybe even burn something.)

But Chris knew that this was just out of rage, so he resisted those urges and grabbed the phone instead. He hesitated, wondering who he wanted to call first, and decided there was only one. His beta leader, the sound reason behind The Court. He dialed quickly, putting the phone to his ear and listening to it ring.

Eventually there was an answer, "_You've got Michaels._"

**xXxXxXx**

Shawn stopped at a red light he was pretty sure he wasn't supposed to be at, peering at the screen of his GPS system with an evident air of confusion. He cocked his head, squinting at it, hoping it would change. While a lot of the roster lived in Tampa, he hated this place. He would rather be in San Antonio any day, even in LA. He knew those places! While he was kind of sure he was supposed to keep going straight, this thing told him in 100% accuracy to go left.

"Okey-dokey" he made a face, making the left turn. He looked around, now he was sure he was on the wrong side of town. This was nothing but Mom & Pop shops, his pet was in the shopping district. He was supposed to meet John…oh, he made another face, he was supposed to meet John at that one coffee shop about an hour and a half ago. His boy was going to be pissed at him, maybe even withhold sex.

//Yeah right// Shawn continued down the street, a smirk curling his lips //Like he can resist The Showstopper for more than a few hours.//

Shawn shot himself a grin in the mirror, glad to see he still had his looks. He realized what he was doing and started laughing, shaking his head.

"And I call Johnny vain" Shawn kept his eyes on the road, he didn't even see his GPS screen flicker and change streets on him "Wonder where he gets it."

His phone rang, and he had a two-ring long debate on whether or not to talk on the phone while he was driving. He made a split-decision and pulled to the curb, the only car along the street that was parked. The legend grabbed his phone, quickly answering it.

"You've got Michaels."

A shout of his name echoed on the other hand, he winced but listened as the man started ranting at him.

"Chris?" Shawn guessed, getting an exasperated reply "Ok, ok, Christopher, what the hell did you just say?"

He snarled at the reply, "No I don't need to turn my hearing aid up! I-I don't even have one, you jackass. Just repeat what you said, but less screaming this time."

Chris did take a few breaths, then repeated what he said before. Shawn listened intently, horror striking his handsome features.

"Are you sure?" Shawn asked gravely, lips pursing when Chris rattled off some of the things he'd seen on Evan's body "He was raped? And Styles did it? Evan's sure?"

Chris assured him of this, then continued.

"Stay there, Chris, and calm down" Shawn soothed the angry man "Be there for your boy. I'll call everyone, I'll get anyone who's available there and we'll decide just what to do about this."

The legend winced when he heard his friend sniffle, "Come on, Chrissy, keep it together for Evan. We'll be there soon, alright? Just stay calm, and don't do anything stupid."

Shawn hung up, taking a deep breath before dialing a number he knew by heart. It rang a few times before voicemail picked up.

_You've reached me, the Guru of Greatness! I'm probably wrestling…or doing any number of interesting things. So leave a message, and I'm sure I'll get back to you._

Beep.

"Listen sweetheart, you know I'm sorry I left you at the coffee shop" Shawn sighed, this sour feeling in the pit of his stomach "Don't be angry with me, darlin', I just got lost. This stupid GPS…the point is, I'm sorry. But something happened, Evan was attacked yesterday. Chris found him this morning, so I'm heading over there with the rest of the Court. I want you to go back to the hotel room and stay there, lock yourself in. I want to know you're safe while we're taking care of this. Love ya, sweetheart."

Shawn hung up, sighing. He didn't even have a full minute to think over how to word the situation to everyone when he got a text back from his lover's cell.

_Fine. But don't bother coming back tonight, I'm locking the door against you too._

"Fair's fair" Shawn sighed.

Now that he knew his pet was safe, he needed to get everyone together

He called Mark, the line picking up immediately, "Mark, we've got problems."

Little did Shawn Michaels know he had more than a he thought, for it wasn't his precious pet who'd texted him…but his rapist.

**xXxXxXx**

Those who could show at Jericho's house did. Edge, Christian, Punk, Swagger, Miz, and Batista all were scheduled for the taping and house shows and couldn't make it.

Undertaker showed, though. Shawn and Cena sat on the couch, Ted at John's feet.

Matt had Jeff in his lap on one of the plush chairs, rubbing soothing circles on his lower back. He adored the kid, and he hated that Evan had been attacked the moment he was left alone.

Randy showed up as well, and he was leaning against the wall with Cody sitting on the footstool by his side. He was rubbing at his belly a bit, trying to concentrate on Evan's attack instead of how fat he seemed to be getting. His master tried to tell him it was growing muscle, but it felt different.

Chris sat in his favorite tan leather chair, running his fingers over his lips roughly, "I can't believe this happened. I was only gone for one night."

"And AJ did it?" Matt scowled "The bastard. I knew he was crazy, but I didn't think he'd actually do something like this."

Randy tilted his head back against the wall, "Where's he now?""Evan?" Jericho sighed "He's sleeping it off. That asshole really did a number on him. I came home and found him passed out and handcuffed right here on the floor. Styles probably drugged him and left him just like that."

Ted hissed out a breath, flattening his back against the couch, "That's his blood."

It was true, a stain of crimson from the handcuffs cuts was right there in the middle of the floor.

"What do we do about this, 'Taker?" Cena gave his leader a curious look "Evan's just a kid."

"With all the circumstances accounted for…" Shawn gestured outward "This was done unprovoked, we've never had any vendetta against Styles. It was obviously pre-planned, and executed with malicious accuracy. I see no reason for mercy."

"Let me kill him."

Chris's dark whisper made the three subs shudder, not used to the man seething such anger.

"Chris?" Mark made his name a question, wondering if the man was sure of this.

"That man…broke into my home" Chris grit his teeth, leaning forward "He drugged and raped Evan _in my home_! While I was gone, he shed my pet's blood and left him here for me to find! He broke something I love dearly, and for that I'm going to shove a knife down his throat. If you try and stop me-"

"Chrissy?" came the soft, almost child-like murmur from up the stairs. All eyes watched as Evan slowly descended the stairs, flushed and eyes dilated. He was all but panting, clad in nothing but a large t-shirt that fluttered around his thighs and some boxers. They could easily see the darkened bruise on his jaw, bite marks visible along his shoulders and neck.

Evan walked over to his master, dropping to his knees beside him. He weakly circled one of the blonde's legs, nuzzling his thigh with his cheek. Jeff gave a little hiss when he saw the ravenette's wrists, bandaged now but he knew it must've been from the handcuffs.

"Evvy, what are you doing? You should be in bed" Chris lifted his pet's face, concern in his eyes as he looked noted the boy's flushed cheeks. He touched his forehead with the back of his hand, then his pulse.

Matt bit the side of his cheek, "He looks horrible."

"His fever's gone up" Chris hated that Evan had gotten so sick in such a short amount of time "He's almost delusional, he was wandering around the kitchen earlier. He can't eat, I can barely get him to drink…Ev, precious, go back to bed."

"Wanna be with you" Evan whispered, then gave a low whine and buried his face in the bend of his master's knee "Can't sleep."

"I know, Evvy, I know" Chris cupped the back of his pet's neck, looking up at his leader "He never gets sick, 'Taker. Styles injected him with something…I think there was something else in it. He just sneezed a few hours ago, and now he's fevered. Nothing I give him works."

"This is wrong" Randy rolled his neck "Why would Styles do this? Was this just a coincidence?"

Matt and Chris exchanged a long look, the older Hardy patted his brother on the leg, "Go take Evan back upstairs, Jeffy. Make him comfortable."

"Sure" Jeff got up, going over and bringing Evan into his arms "Come on, sweetie. Let's get you back into bed."

"I'm not a kid" Evan grumbled, but he let the older man take most of his weight. He was taken back upstairs, and only when they disappeared did Jericho claw a hand through his hair.

"You see what he did to my Evan?" Chris all but snarled "My boy can barely walk a straight line, and he's in so much pain…there's nothing I can do."

"I know, Chris, but you have to be calm about this" Mark leant forward in his seat, hands folded "The last time someone overreacted to this kind of situation, a lot of people ended up dead."

Chris's cellphone went off, making the blonde jump. He dug it out of his pocket, looking down at the screen.

"It's Miz" Chris sighed, glad that it was another master.

Shawn cleared his throat, "Chris, if you want me to answer it…"

"No, I'll tell him" Chris gave a slight smile, clicking the button and putting the phone to his ear "Hey Mike."

"_Hey there, Chrissy!_"

**xXxXxXx**

_At The Arena_

Jake was sitting on the bench, foot flat in front of him on the locker so he could lace it. He had already finished up his house show, showered, and changed back into his street clothes. He was ready to get back to the hotel and sleep it off, he had been in a Fatal-Four Way match and it had taken a lot out of him. Not to mention the singles match right before that to qualify for the FFW match…

Jake suppressed a yawn.

"Aw" a voice purred in his ear, arms draping down around his neck "Is my baby tired?"

"A bit" Jake replied honestly.

Miz chuckled, nosing into that thick crop of hay colored hair before pulling away, "I'm almost done. I just gotta make a phone call and finish getting dressed."

"Ok" Jake hauled both their duffle bags over his massive shoulders, getting up and flashing his master a look "I'll wait up."

"No, no" Miz waved it off, picking up his cell "You go on ahead. Shawn left me a message earlier to go to Chris's house, I'm gonna see what they want."

"Alright."

Jake went to leave, getting a sharp whistle, "Jake-love, you forgetting something?"

Jake turned back to his master, flashing him a cute smile. He walked over, holding both bags with one hand in a move that testified to his strength and using the other to cup the back of his master's neck. He leaned down, meeting their lips. Miz smiled into the kiss, tilting his head and deepening it. The blonde pulled him in closer, passion fueling them.

"Mmm, that's better" Miz hummed, tongue flickering over his bottom lip "Go wait in the car, I'll be there in ten minutes."

"Whatever you want, Master" Jake dipped down, giving his neck a quick kiss.

Miz watched with a smirk as his pet left the locker room, leaving him all but alone. They had both finished pretty early in the night, they didn't get to be in the taped show. It was a _Smackdown_ and _ECW_ taping tonight, they had just warmed the crowd up.

Miz dialed up Jericho's number, getting his jacket out of his locker. He had just worked one arm into a sleeve when the blonde picked up.

"Hey there, Chrissy!" Miz sang into the phone, smiling though the man couldn't see him "HBK said something happened, but he was kind of vague. What happened?"

Miz listened as Chris told him all about it. He put on his jacket slowly, listening intently to his friend said. Though fully dressed, Miz sat down on the bench and hung onto every word. He put his hand to his mouth, positively disgusted with what he heard.

"I can't believe it" Mike breathed, heart aching at the thought of it "What are we going to do about this?"

Chris replied, offending the young man, "Of course I want to help! Evan is my friend, I adore that kid. No one deserves to be hurt like that."

Miz was put on speaker phone, and the Court discussed what they thought was best.

**xXx**

Jake lugged the duffle bags higher over his shoulders, huffing out a breath as he made his way down the steps into the parking garage. It took his eyes a long moment to adjust to the dimness after being in stark white hallways all day, but he continued on. He dug the keys to the rental out of his pocket, staring down at them curiously. He couldn't quite remember what the car looked like. They'd had so many the past two weeks, how was he supposed to keep them straight?

Jake squinted down the row, thinking that it was that little blue car at the end…

Jake didn't even see the blow coming, he had no way to defend himself. He barley choked out a scream when the solid object stuck his temple, falling to his knees and dropping the duffle bags. His vision spun, going fuzzy at the edges, and he reached up in human instinct to cradle what had been hit. Before he had three thoughts strung together, another blow came to the back of his skull.

Jake lost consciousness, darkness engulfing him.

Kozlov was panting like a wild boar, adrenaline and lust rushing through him as he took down the younger man. The blonde had collapsed under only two blows. He dropped the tire iron, letting it clatter to the cement ground. He waited, eyes roaming the large form in both a predatory and an analytical manner. Once he was sure Swagger wouldn't be getting back up, he knelt down next to him and rolled him onto his back roughly.

Kozlov could just see the shining jewels beneath those blonde-spun lashes, Jake only aware for a few seconds before his eyes closed completely. The Ukrainian grabbed the top of his shirt, and with one swift jerk the first four buttons broke. The soft, tan skin of chest was revealed…the muscles evident. Vladimir knew he was the only one who could completely dominant this boy, for he had height and a good forty pounds on him. He'd manhandled Jake in the ring, and he knew he could do the same in bed. The thought of this boy tied down, restrained, screaming as he was shown what a real master could do…

Picture-perfect American boy…blonde hair, blue eyed…

Kozlov slipped his hand between the folds of the torn shirt, giving a small grunt as he savored the firm muscle beneath his palm. He got lost in the sensations, his thumb trailing along the boy's clavicle and up just below his chin. He bent down to kiss him, getting just a taste before he heard footsteps.

Kozlov looked up, scowling when he saw Raven running toward him.

"You dawdling idiot, you wanna put us all in danger?" Raven snapped, grabbing the man by his thick bicep and pulling him to his feet "You wasted your time, the rest of us are in place already. Now get out of here!"

Kozlov growled something at him in Russian, but the blonde cut him off.

"I don't give a shit, you hear me?" Raven looked down at the blonde, nudging him with his foot before turning his attention to the tire iron "This is good, this'll get him to the hospital. I'll call Batista and Kane, give them the go-ahead. Let's go."

Kozlov tried to protest, but stopped when the blonde gave him a heated look.

"Mizanin is coming, so get your ass in gear" Raven pointed to the white car two rows down "JBL got that for your get away, so…_disappear_ until you get the call."

Kozlov huffed, but agreed.

Raven patted his shoulder, "Don't worry, big guy, you'll get another chance after we decide what to do with The Court."

Kozlov decided to obey, leaving the scene.

Raven all but faded into the shadows, deciding to watch the spectacle that was about to unfold in front of him. He needed to stay here at the arena anyways, he might as well enjoy the show.

**xXx**

Miz was still on the phone, even as he made his way to the parking garage. He decided to continue the conversation elsewhere when it had turned into a full-fledge debate.

"Are you sure we can't just call the police?" Mike asked timidly, getting a snap from the blonde "I know you want to take care of this, Chris. I guess I'm too new to get how things work…"

Miz continued down the rows of cars, looking for the small blue rental they had. He saw something up ahead, something that made his heart stop. There was a heap of what looked like clothes there on the ground, two duffle bags lying limp on either side of it. The closer he got, the more he realized just what the hell was there.

"Oh God" Mike breathed, his free hand coming up to cover his mouth in shock. He nearly stumbled, but quickly gathered himself together.

"Chris, I'll call you back."

Miz stuffed his phone into his pocket, dashing forward with all his strength and all but sliding to his knees. He felt his jeans tears, pain shot up his kneecaps, but he didn't care.

Jake was lying there, out cold and breathing irregularly. Miz's hand shook as he reached out and cupping his pet's face, he looked up and around to see if anyone was around. No one, they were alone.

"Jake?" Mike lightly slapped his pet's face, getting no response "Jake, baby, wake up. Please…wake up."

Panic started flooding through his system, seeing his strong protector lying broken on the ground. He looked closer, all but whimpering when he saw the blood staining the corner of the blonde's mouth. He slid his hand down into his hair, clamping his teeth over his bottom lip when he felt something hot and sticky. Slowly, Mike pulled his hand back.

Blood.

"Mike?" came a French accented voice, he looked up to see Maryse standing there "Are you ok, _chérie_?"

With tears in his eyes, he stuttered out, "Maryse, p-please…call an ambulance!"

Maryse hurried to obey, pulling out her cellphone to do so. Mike laid his hand over his pet's chest, feeling his heart beat slowly beneath his palm. He blinked away his tears, struggling to concentrate on who could've done this. He noted that his pet's shirt was torn, the buttons ripped away and now scattered on the cement.

"Don't worry, love…" Miz whispered, stroking his hair and forgetting the blood on his hands.

Miz wouldn't remember to call Chris back until they were at the hospital.

* * *

**Damn, that one got really long. Let this one make up for any of the others you thought w****ere too short.**


	8. Chapter 8

**My medical knowledge is limited to **_**House**_**, just so you know. I know it screws up the timeline a bit, but Miz is champion right now**

**I MUST WARN YOU READERS!!! This is getting DARK, ya'll. If you were squicked out before this, it's not going to let up. I'm talking torture, crude, rape. I'm just warning you, so don't say I didn't!**

* * *

Chris stared down at his phone in confusion, wondering why Miz had hung up so suddenly. He had noted something in the younger man's voice. He looked up at the others who were waiting for an answer, especially Mark. It had been almost ten minutes.

"The kid probably just forgot" Shawn offered "He's a bit of a flake."

"Not with stuff like this" John spoke for him "Mike wouldn't say he'd call and not."

"You think somethin' happened?" Matt asked, watching his brother descend the stairs. He opened his arms, bringing the younger man into his lap once more. He brushed the hot pink bangs out of his cat-like emerald eyes, the rest of his long hair put up in a loose bun. It was dyed a nice shade of violet tonight for the show, only the bangs that stark pink color.

Those lovely eyes went a bit wider, "Something happened to Miz?"

"We don't know" Matt replied lowly.

"Him and his blonde are probably juts busy" Randy offered light-heartedly, getting a small smile from Cena "Oh what? Like you haven't shut off your phone for some alone time."

The tips of Ted's ears turned red, he rubbed at them absently.

Chris was just about to call their youngest back when _Reality_ sounded loudly from his phone, signaling Miz calling him. He answered it quickly, breathing a sigh of relief.

"You scared me there, Mikey."

Mike's panicked voice came into his ear, demanding he put him on speaker phone. Chris did, turning up the volume before holding the phone out in his palm.

"Ok, Mike, you're on."

"_You guys need to come to the St. Mercy Hospital_" Miz stated, sounding as if he was barely keeping it together "_Something horrible has happened…someone…Jake's hurt._"

Ted sat forward at this, heart picking up the pace. He and Jake had grown pretty close, the blonde was funny and made you feel safe whenever he was around. The three subs shared a long look, distress on their faces. Jake was a major source of strength for them, he was the first to defend them as a group when their masters weren't around. He had saved all their asses more than once. It wasn't like they couldn't stick up for themselves and too meek to fight, it's just…Jake was intimidating and kept most of the heat off them just by being there.

Mark tensed, lips pursing, "What?"

"_Please, I don't want to talk about this on the phone_" Mike whispered, obviously he was feeling rather vulnerable with his pet hurt "_Can you guys just get down here?_"

Jericho met eyes with the others, then spoke up for them all, "Everyone who's free will be there in a half hour, Mike, we promise."

The younger master mumbled a quick_ thank you_ before the line clicked dead.

Chris shut his phone, dropping his head and putting the side to his lips, "This isn't good."

"Two pets attacked in only a day of each other?" Cena clicked his tongue, pulling a face "I don't like the tone of this."

"We haven't had a serious assault on one of ours boys in years" Randy stated, reaching down and running his hand up the side of Cody's neck "This is too much of coincidence."

"Master 'Taker" Matt drawled in that honey-southern accent, giving his leader a thoughtful look past Jeff's shoulders "Do you think this is a move against us?"

Mark thought a long moment on this, "It's too early to call it that. Styles was a bit unstable, and anyone on the roster who wants a one-up on the Untied States Champion could've attacked young Jacob. Phil has a match tonight. Where are all the others?"

"Batista has a match tonight too" Cena scowled, the man's name left a bitter taste in his mouth.

"Adam and Jason are going back to the hotel after their match" Matt offered.

"One things clear…" Shawn gave a 'harumph', getting to his feet "We have to get to Mike."

"We can't" Matt stood up, easing his pet off his lap "Jeff has a match tonight with Johnny."

Jeff nodded at this, though he wasn't looking forward to it.

"You'll have to text my little beauty queen and remind him" Shawn sighed "I'm afraid I pissed him off earlier. He's hiding up in our hotel room."

Matt nodded, "We'll head to the arena early. Give Mike my best."

"We will" Mark stood as well "The rest of us will drive to St. Mercy and see exactly what happened."

A light bulb almost visibly went off over Shawn's head, "Chris…you should bring Evan."

"What?" Chris pulled a sour face "Why?"

"No, I think it's a good idea" Mark supported his right-hand "It's a better alternative to leaving Evan here alone. And you can get a doctor to look him over, give him antibiotics to break this fever before it gets worse."

Jericho reluctantly agreed, standing as well, "I'll go get him dressed."

**xXxXxXx**

They made a strange group when they entered the hospital, what with Jericho carrying his pet in his arms and most of them larger than the average person. When a group of muscular men entered a hospital, people took notice, and the nurses took Evan right away to be taken care of.

"Fill me in later" Jericho made Shawn promise, leaving them to stay with his pet.

After Shawn sweet-talked the girls at the nurse's station, they found out where Swagger had been taken. The masters had an intimidating air about them, people moved right out of there way as they made their way through the halls.

Ted and Cody trailed behind, the younger man leaning into his friend.

"You ok, Codes?" Ted whispered, wrapping his arm around the boy's waist "You haven't been yourself these past couple months."

"I'm fine" Cody rubbed at his belly "Teddy, seriously…do you think I'm getting fat?"

"What?" Ted smiled at the boy, trying not to laugh at him "What makes you think that? Has…has Randy said something?"

"No, he'd never say anything" Cody peered at his master, who was obliviously walking by Cena's side "But I've just been thinking…I don't know."

"Listen here, baby-boy, you are beautiful" Ted leaned in and nuzzled the brunette tresses with his nose, touching Cody's stomach briefly "There's nothing wrong with you. He loves you the way you are, and a little bit of weight isn't going to change that."

Cody gaped at the chuckling blonde, jabbing him in the stomach, "Are you serious?"

"I'm jokin', Codes" Ted squeezed him, touching their foreheads intimately "Don't worry about it, ok? Don't even think about it."

"I'm horribly selfish, aren't I?" Cody bit down on his lower lip "Here Evan and Jake's been attacked, and I'm worrying about myself."

"You're a selfish shit, yeah" Ted assured him "But we love you."

The subs conversation stopped when their masters did, they had found Jake's room. They filed into the quintuplet-room, where night had fallen the lights were dimmed and the only real light came from the backs of the beds. Four of the beds were made and empty, only one filled.

Jake lay there, a hospital gown stretched over his broad chest. There were two gashes on his head, one along his temple and another along the back of his head. Only a bit of hair had been shaved away, barely noticeable, to stitch the cuts close. Though cleaned and sterilized, it was a gruesome sight. He was asleep, hooked up to a few wires to monitor his heart rate and vitals.

Miz stood there at the foot of his pet's bed, stock-still. His eyes were blank, unseeingly watching over the blonde. He had a hand to his mouth, his fingers caked in a dark substance.

John approached first, taking the man's hand down from his lips to examine them. Miz turned his head, blinking at the older man in a dull way. Ted followed his master's lead, grabbing a towel and wetting it with warm water in the sink.

"Mike…is this blood?" Cena whispered.

"Uh…yeah…" Mike's eyes fell to his hands, he swallowed thickly "Jake's blood."

Ted came up to the man's other side, taking Mike's hand from his master and beginning to wipe the blood from it. Miz whispered a small _thank_ _you_, eyes sliding back over his own pet's limp form. The others gathered around, looking upon both Jake and their brother.

Mark approached and stood beside Jake's bed, letting his fingers trail across the boy's forehead, "What happened?"

"I was on the phone with Chris" Miz began, voice slow and hesitant "I told Jake…to go on ahead. He took our stuff and went to the car. When we couldn't decide what to do, I headed out to the car as well. I just got into the garage…and I saw something on the floor. It was Jake. He was out cold…and bleeding."

Miz choked on this last word, but swallowed down his misery.

Randy looked away from the injuries, "Did the doctors say what happened?"

Miz nodded, "He looked him over and said he was attacked from behind…two blows from a blunt object. H-He said from the shape of them, it was a crowbar or a tire-iron."

"Was there one at the scene?"

Miz covered his eyes with his other hand, "I-I don't know…"

"He doesn't matter" Shawn scowled "I think this qualifies as a deliberate strike against us."

"Not yet" Mark hissed, he didn't want to consider such a verdict "What do they say about his condition?"

"He hasn't woken up since. They said something about his brain getting jarred…it shut he rest of his body down" Miz dropped his hand once Ted had removed the blood, the blonde stepping back and away to join Cody by one of the beds "They gave him steroids to stop the swelling. The longer he's out, the less chance there is he'll…he'll ever wake up."

Randy dug his fingers into his temple, closing his eyes, "This is horrible."

Mike's face suddenly hardened, finding Mark's gaze and holding it, "I want this bastard dead."

Cena tisked, "You and Chris both."

**xXxXxXx**

In a seedy, shadowed part of Tampa, right along the outskirts, a young man was being put through hell. This particular young man had been sodomized, bitten, licked, groped, and beaten by more than a dozen people. He couldn't fight back much due to the drugs in his system, but they didn't seem to care about his lack of participation. It was easier to use his mouth when he couldn't stand on his own. This group of bikers, these thugs, got tired of the current bar they were passing him around in.

So they dragged him outside, and the cool night air was like a shock to the young man's system.

This young man was none other than John Morrison.

John came to after hours, gasping and looking around wildly. He found himself in a dark brick alley outside a crappy bar, a group of large men leaning against the walls and surrounding him. He also found that every muscle in his body ached, he looked down at himself to find nothing but his jeans (now torn in several places) barely pulled up to his hips and his chest bare. Blood slicked his skin, covering him, so fresh he couldn't tell where the wound was that leaked this much. He clenched his eyes shut, refusing to acknowledge the various wounds marring his skin. He arched his back and hissed at the feeling in his ass, and it made his stomach churn to know that he had been raped.

Again…more than twice, maybe who-knows how many times.

A meaty hand struck him in the face, whipping his head to the side and knocking some more sense into him. While full-fledge pain bloomed along his cheek, Morrison vaguely recalled what JBL had done to him. The drugs made the last few hours hazy, fuzzy around the edges, but he knew enough to know he was in some serious trouble. With every lungful of crisp night air, he brought himself out of the mental smog that had trapped his mind inside itself.

One of the main guys, tall and dark-haired with a ponytail laying between his shoulder blades, stepped forward, "Let me have his mouth next. Put 'im on his knees."

John found himself pushed down onto his knees per request. All he knew was that he needed to go find Shawn, go find help, just get the fuck out of here. A thick hand fisted in his hair, yanking his head back and causing him to gasp in pain. His mouth fell open, and the guy took the moment to fill it.

John choked on the girth that was forced between his lips, the sour pre-cum like acid on his tongue. He made a decision right then, there was only one thing he could do.

He had to gather himself and get the hell out of here.

John bit down as hard as he could, gagging loudly as tissue gave way beneath his teeth and blood flooded his mouth. The hands on his arms immediately released him, the man who had been trying to use his mouth stumbled backward. He was shuddering violently now, coughing and all but throwing up the disgusting piece of meat in his mouth and letting it splatter to the ground. He desperately suppressed the thought of what he just did, knowing it'd just be worse if he accepted the situation for what it was.

The asshole was screaming bloody murder, and that's when the group's attention turned. All thoughts of sex and the whore they had acquired disappeared, now all about helping their friend.

John scratched at the wall, stucco staining his fingers and gathering beneath his nails. He managed to pull himself to his feet, using the wall as a guide to get him down the ally and away from the bastards. His legs were shaking beneath his weight, making his normal strut a graceless calf-like gait. He was nauseas and more than just a little dizzy, but eventually he managed to emerge from the mouth of the ally.

Night had fallen hard, the only light from the few independent drug stores open and two street lights (all others were either busted out or flickering.) John fell against the nearest wall, one of an old apartment building. He used the support to hold himself up, running one of his hands over his torso. He hissed, blood seeping over his fingers as he prodded at a wound. He felt the raw edges, realizing with a certain horror that it was a long gash up his body.

"Hospital" he muttered, looking around. He continued blindly down the sidewalk, nearly tripping over garbage cans and his own feet. He raked back his hair once in a while, scowling as he felt the grime that had gathered there (probably from all the sweat and the dirt from the bar floor.) There was no way there'd be a hospital around his shitty part of town.

//Shawn// was all John could think of, finding the first drug store and pushing his way inside. The glare from the artificial lights hurt his eyes while his ears were stung with the sharp bell over the door.

The girl behind the counter (Katie) nearly screamed when she saw the man's appearance, blood trickling after him as he came up to the counter. He opened his mouth to speak, but all that came out was a low whine.

John cleared his throat, leaning his arms on the counter and letting it take his weight, "I…I need you to c-call someone for me…"

Katie, shocked with her hand clamped over her mouth, merely nodded.

"Pencil? Paper?"

Katie nodded once again like a bobble-doll, digging a pen and a sticky note tablet out from beneath the counter. She scooted them toward the man, eyes wary yet sympathetic. John wiped at his wet eyes, tears blurring his vision. He flexed his fingers, trying to work out the trembling before picking up the pen. He concentrated, writing down the cellphone he knew by heart.

"C-Call him" Shawn pushed the number back at the young woman "Tell him I'm hurt. T-Tell him…where I am. Tell him…cause I sure as hell don't know."

Katie nodded, picking up the phone by the cash register and putting it to her ear. As she dialed, ear to the receiver, she looked the young man over. He was handsome, but his raven hair was matted and he was covered in blood. He had this horrible gash down his right side, skin too drenched for her to tell just where it started and where it ended. He looked so pathetic.

"Who…am I calling?" Katie managed to squeak out.

"His name's Shawn" John replied, blinking dully down at the counter "Hurry…I'm a little dizzy."

"You should lay down" Katie rushed "You're losing a lot of blood."

"Yeah" John smiled, a note of hysteria in his voice "I am, aren't I?"

The line picked up, "Hello? Is this Shawn? Hi, uh, you don't know me. But a man here named-"

"John."

"-John is asking for you. He's really hurt, like, sir…he's bleeding everywhere. I think I should call an ambulance. W-What am I supposed to do?"

John slowly eased to the floor, sighing and leaning against the glass.

**xXxXxXx**

Shawn all but sputtered, phone frozen to his ear. He'd just picked up, not thinking to check the number, and found out it was a drug store. He looked at the others as if to receive confirmation.

"That's impossible" he breathed, then firmed his voice "Ask him his name again. John Morrison?"

"_Yes, sir, he says his name is John Morrison. He's not doing good at all, we really need an ambulance here_."

Though Shawn was completely sure his pet was safe back at the hotel, he just went along with it, "Then why haven't you called one?!"

"_H-He told me to call you._"

Shawn demanded the address from her, memorizing it instantly. He hung up, dashing out of the room.

"What the hell was that?" Randy inquired, as if the others would know more than him. Minutes later, Shawn returned with a grim expression on his face.

"Shawn?" Mark urged, seeing his right-hand was shaken.

"Some girl just called him" Shawn grumbled, barely able to believe "She said a guy calling himself John Morrison just walked in. He…he's hurt really badly, and he was asking for me. I had this place send an ambulance to the address the kid gave me, they'll find out if it's real or not."

Cena shook his head, "No. No way, this has to be a mistake."

Shawn gave him an even look, "He gave her my cellphone number. No one has that."

Mark had that horrible feeling building up in his chest, "Where was John last?"

"At the hotel room!" Shawn roared, frustration getting the best of him. He spun around, torn between kicking something or running away. "Where he should be! I got a message from him not even an hour ago, what could've happened?"

Miz swallowed thickly, "Are…are you sure it was John?"

"Yes! Who else would it be?" Shawn barked impatiently.

"Call him" Miz countered.

"What?"

"Call John" Miz insisted, a grim gleam in his eyes "See for yourself if you're so sure."

Shawn hesitated, pulling back out his cell, "Fine."

He dialed his pet's number, putting the receiver to his ear. It rang twice, then clicked.

"_Figured it out, didjya?_" came a drawl from the other end.

"Who the hell is this?" Shawn snarled, not in the mood to mess around "Where the fuck is John?"

"_I dunno. You tell me_."

Shawn's eyes widened, "What did you do to him?"

"_I took my rights and then dropped him off_" the man replied "_So tell me…did the little glitter doll live? Have ya seen what they did to him? I bet he's not so pretty now._"

Shawn realized who this was, "…Bradshaw."

The man laughed, "_You're on a roll today, aren't ya Michaels?_"

"You son-of-a-bitch!" Shawn screamed, fingertips digging into his phone "What did you do to my boy?!"

The line went dead.

Shawn dropped the device, digging the heels of his palms into his eyes as he tried not to go after the bastard right then. He wanted to go in seven different directions, and his dom instincts were torn between wanting to take care of John and hunting down Bradshaw to slit his throat.

"Shawn?" Cena urged.

"Bradshaw" Shawn hissed, dropping his hands to reveal the pure loathing shining in his eyes "Whatever happened to John, Bradshaw did it."

"JBL?" Miz's brow creased "Why the hell would he hurt John?""He's been lusting after him for years" Shawn spat "I never thought he'd actually do something. And I think he did the hell out of it."

Mark heaved a sigh, "Alright. I want both Evan and John in here when the doctors are done with them."

Shawn nodded, going out to meet the ambulance when it arrived.

"Ready to rule an attack yet, boss?" Cena inquired, looking to his leader.

Mark gave a small rumble of uncertainty, "Let's wait to see John's condition."

"Why can't you see that this isn't a coincidence anymore?" Cena stepped closer, tone a harsh whisper "Something's going here. Styles, Bradshaw, and this mystery guy? This is a move against us, and these assholes aren't wasting any time. How many of our boys have to suffer because you won't consider-"

Mark gave the younger man a hard look, cutting him off, "I don't want to believe someone could hate us so much, is that a crime now John? I don't want to believe that we're under a full-fledge attack. Because if it is…I'm afraid we'll have to commit acts that I believe are beneath us."

Cena wet his lips, looking toward Jake and hoping that the others were going to be ok.

* * *

**I just got **_**The Marine **_**and**_** The Marine 2**_** in the mail today and I watched them both in a row. I highly recommend them to people who like John Cena and Ted DiBiase. They are really good action flicks in my opinion. The first one actually has some really good humor in it and the second one makes you identify with the villains. I warn anyone who gets the first one unrated though, there's a sex scene in it that through me for a loop. I'm not big on sex scenes, so I freaked out…and my eleven year old sister was watching it with me.**

**I've kind of converted her a little, cause she said that **_**The Marine 2**_** would be a better movie if Robin (Joe's wife) was replaced with Cody. Teehee…she's a slasher in the making!**


	9. Chapter 9

**I stole Dr. Chase from House. Go check him out…he's hot.**

**Ok, so I'm starting to confuse myself. Everything ended up happening almost in one night, so I'm sorry if I minimize the importance of some subs over others. But also I know that, with modern medicine the way it is, that people can get patched up really quickly.**

**Let's give a big hand for the breakout star of this fic: The Cellphone!**

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* * *

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The nurses brought Evan into the quintuplet-bed room with Jake, setting him up in the bed next to the door. They fixed up an IV for him, but didn't bother with the other machines. He was just a bit dehydrated, he couldn't keep anything down and that included water. He looked truly pathetic, dark eyes blown and pale skin flushed with fever. He was panting lightly, and the moment he was put on the bed he curled up on himself. He wrapped his arms around the thick hospital pillow, nestling half his face in it.

"Just try to rest, honey" one of the Southern blonde nurses cooed, feeling so sorry for the boy.

Evan nodded, letting his eyes drift shut. He wouldn't be getting any sleep, but he didn't have the energy to move much either.

Jericho gave a nod to Mark, his leader sitting in one of the large chairs placed by the window. Randy was sitting on one of the beds, Cody beside him and all but in his lap. He stroked his pet lovingly, wondering what he would ever do if something happened to him. Ted sat on the bed opposite Evan, watching the boy with a sympathetic eye. Cena was leaning against the wall beside Jake's bed, softly consoling Mike as the youngest master sat on his pet's bed. Miz watched over Jake, silently willing him to wake up.

Chris slipped out of the room, taking the doctor by the elbow and leading him down the hall a bit. He spun suddenly, looking the smaller man over before growling. He looked at his nametag, of course his pet would get a blonde doctor.

"What's wrong with him?"

"I assume you know he was raped already" the blonde began, unsure.

"Yes" Chris hissed impatiently, he could feel the start of a headache in the base of his skull.

"Well then there's good news and bad news" Dr. Chase stated cryptically, looking down at his chart "The good news is that what Evan has isn't contagious, there's zero chance this virus could go air born. This kind of…super-bug is usually only contracted through blood."

Jericho was glad that having Evan around the others wouldn't effect their health, but the firm pang in his heart told him that it got worse, "And…?"

"The bad news is, we can't treat it" Chase lowered his tone, glancing back towards the room "All that seems to help are basic antibiotics, nothing else can kill this thing. We can give him those drugs, keep him hydrated and warm…but at this point, it's up to Evan to fight off this thing. If his body is strong enough, the symptoms should fade in the next couple of days."

"He could die from this, couldn't he?" Chris inquired darkly.

Chase nodded, "There's nothing else we can do at this point."

Jericho sighed heavily, wishing there was more he could do for his pet. The doctor jumped, suddenly remembering something. He dug into his bulky lab coat, pulling out a VHS tape.

"This was sent here for you, I should've known you were with the WWE from your size" Chase handing over the tape "It's from the head of security at your taping tonight. He said that someone named 'Master 'Taker' needed to see this."

"Yes, thank you" Chris said, though he was confused. He made his way back to the Court's reserved room, stepping inside to find Shawn there now. He looked a bit pale, but he seemed to be keeping himself together. Ted saw Evan's master come in, giving the dozing boy a long look before getting up. He snuck out of the room, deciding that this was the best time to get something to drink.

Cody saw him leave, but didn't say anything.

" 'Taker" Chris walked up to his leader, holding up the tape "Someone at the arena sent this. It's for you to watch."

Mark felt his stomach drop out, but he nodded, "Put it in."

Chris gave the tape a skeptic look, but he obeyed. He walked over to the TV in the corner, turning it on and the VCR. He slipped the tape in, pressing play. The masters watched intently at the image that came up on the screen, a rough cut of the _Smackdown _for next week. It was rewound towards the end of Punk's match against Finlay. The crowd was pretty good, going nuts for the two of them.

The masters watched quietly, wondering just why the hell they were watching this now of all times. Punk was on the ropes for a while, but he made a powerful comeback. He knocked the bigger man around, finally landing a firm GTS after riling up the crowd a little. He went for the pin, getting it.

Mark couldn't help the way his lips turned up at this, seeing his pet jumping around the ring a bit in celebration. He got up on the turnbuckle, showing off a little. The Phenom's expression changed when he saw who was breaking through the crowd, the large man going over the fan wall and up to the ring with a chair in his hand.

"This is _not_ in the Smackdown storyline" Chris whispered, for his leader and himself were the only one on the brand in this room. Mark stood up, walking closer to the TV as Kane stalked his pet in the ring. His brother wouldn't dare do such a thing.

Phil didn't see it coming, too busy eating up the crowd's reaction. But he definitely felt the stiff-shot upside the head with the solid metal chair. Mark's fists tightened as his pure pain flashed across his pet's face, the camera catching the way he collapsed to his knees and clutched at his head. Another strike across the back had the ravenette arching before he fell onto the canvas.

Randy and Cena both gave small gasps of horror as Kane grabbed Phil by the back of the neck and half-pullled him to the ropes. The Big Red Machine got out of the ring, boots smacking loudly against he floor as he landed. Phil cried out as the man fisted his hand in his hair, physically dragging him out of the ring and letting him crumple to the floor.

"He wouldn't dare" Mark's lips curled up in a snarl as his brother towed his pet up the ramp by nothing more than his hair. Phil kicked and cried out against the pain, half crab-walking backwards so his hair wouldn't be ripped from his scalp. He couldn't quite get to his feet, his hands busy clawing at the man's meaty forearm.

The cameras picked up his pet's scream, "_Let me go, Glenn! That's enough!_"

Kane ignored the pathetic command, only stopping at the top of the ramp to give the cameras a rather evil look. He shot the screen a wink, twisting his fingers in raven hair to get another shout of pain. He disappeared with the Straightedge Superstar, going backstage and not seen again.

Mark pulled out his cell, giving a call to the security. It was almost immediately picked up, an apology spilling over the line before he ever said a word.

"We're sorry, Master 'Taker. Once we realized it wasn't part of the storyline, I launched a search" the head security guard gushed, fear and sincerity in his voice "We raked the entire arena, we couldn't find a sign of Kane."

"And my boy?" Mark drawled.

"Nothing, sir" the man swallowed audibly over the line "I sent you the tape because I knew you wouldn't believe me when I told you what your brother had done."

"Did anyone see where he took him?"

"No, I'm sorry sir."

Mark made a quick decision, "Don't contact the authorities, I'll take care of this."

"Of course, sir."

Mark hung up, slipping his phone very quietly into his pocket.

"Mark?" Shawn whispered, stepping closer to his friend as Jericho ejected the tape.

"Boys, it seems we're at war" Mark turned to his sub-masters, giving them a stony look "Seems like some have gotten an idea in their heads that it's ok to mess with our boys and get away with it."

He nodded to Chris, "I want you to call Adam, Matt, and David. Tell them to be on high alert."

Chris nodded back.

Mark turned his attention to his right hand, "I want you to go be with your boy, Shawn. He needs you right now more than ever."

Shawn agreed with this.

At that moment, Randy's cellphone rang. He pulled it out, peering at the screen to see it was Stephanie McMahon's number. He shared a brief look with Cody, both confused, but he answered it.

"Uh, hello?" Randy listened intently as the woman told him exactly how it was going to be. His eyes widened, but he let her go on. "Ok, when do you want us there? Fifteen? Fine."

Randy hung up, giving a breathy laugh, "Ain't that a bitch? _RAW_ has to save _Smackdown's_ ass."

Mark raised a brow, silently imploring the young master to go on.

"Stephanie's pissed that her main match didn't go down, Morrison wasn't there so that match is off" Randy explained "She said they needed a big finale, and she wanted to get two of RAW's stars in a Hell in the Cell match."

Shawn pulled a face, "Who?"

"Me and her rotten husband" Randy stood, looking to his leader "I don't think I should do it, 'Taker. You need me here, you need the whole Court to figure out who's behind this."

"I know who's behind this, my bastard brother that's who" Mark snarled, but quickly composed himself "Go, Randy. With so many of us out of commission, it'll get suspicious if we're not available. It's the burden of being Superstars, I suppose. Do the match, keep an eye out, and get back as soon you can."

"If you think it's best, Master 'Taker" Randy conceded, standing up and looking down at his pet "Come on, my sweet. Let's get this over with. If we drive fast, we'll get there just in time."

Cody nodded, obediently following his master out of the room. He paused at Evan's bed, seeing the ravenette in such distress. He leaned down over him, dropping a kiss in his hair.

"Be careful" Evan murmured, barely a whisper of a breath "Said…you guys would get hurt to."

"I promise, Ev" Cody replied just as softly, stroking his damp cheek before leaving to catch up with his master. Chris took his place beside his pet, brushing his knuckles across his forehead to check the fever. He pulled out his phone, ready to make the calls.

Shawn left, going down to the ICU to find his pet and check his condition.

John turned to ask Ted if he was hungry, finding his pet gone, "Teddy?"

The blonde wasn't in the room, it sent a pang of fear through Cena's heart.

"Mike" the younger man looked up at his face, showing he had his attention "Did you see Ted leave?"

"I don't think so" Miz cast his gaze around the room, just noticing the boy was gone.

Mark hadn't noticed this either, and it irked him, "I suggest you go find him, John."

Cena nodded, pace quick as he exited the room as well.

**xXxXxXx**

Ted hunted down the vending machines, finding them on the bottom floor. He fished four quarters out of his wallet, palming them before shoving the black leather back into his pocket. He stood before the pop machine, the red and white Coca-Cola display light washing over him. He peered at the choices, knowing all of it was absolutely horrible for him. But since he only did valet work, why worry too much about his physique?

Ted recalled what Cody had asked earlier, rubbing his own stomach as he remembered how down Cody had sounded when he mentioned gaining some weight. He looked around, finding no one, and rucked up his baggy shirt. His tail was curled around his hips, twitching as the cool air of the hospital touched it. He poked at his stomach, only a little give there. He liked to work out, keep up with John. His master was a beast, only getting thicker muscles each year.

If Ted wasn't careful, he'd get destroyed in bed just by his lover's sheer size.

Deciding he was just being silly, Ted smoothed his shirt back down. His mouth had been dry for the past two hours, but he'd been afraid to say much with all the tragedy. He felt kind of silly…Jake was out cold, Evan was sick, and who knows how badly Morrison had been hurt.

Ted's heart ached at the horrors that had befallen his court, and he hoped it would be over soon.

Trying to take mind off it, he concentrated on the brands of soda he had to choose from. He ran his finger down the cold, plastic buttons…humming to himself. Something sweet, nothing as strong as Pepsi…oh! Dr. Pepper. Mmmm, a sweet cherry taste and caffeine, nice. He clicked the button, the lights taking forever to even form the word 'vend.' Ted reached down and twisted Cena's dog tags around his fingers, the familiar metallic clicking a balm on his nerves.

A cellphone went off behind him, a low trill that sent a shiver through his spine. He straightened up, the tips of his ears twitching as a shuffling sound caught in them. He hesitated, and that was his mistake. A sweet-scented cloth clamped down over his mouth, a powerful hand beneath it to make sure it smothered him. Ted gave a muffled scream as he was yanked backward into a thick body, an arm winding tight around his waist.

"Breath deep, little bear" this was hissed into his ear, and he knew who it was at once. Ted knew what was happening the instance he caught that scent, and he immediately held his breath and started thrashing. He tried to strike the man behind him, no dice. He dug his sharp nails into the man's muscular forearms, raking gashes into the flesh. Getting desperate, Ted gripped the forearm with both hands and used the leverage to pick his body up and kick out at the pop machine.

Ted managed to thump them both backwards into the wall, nearly knocking all the breath out of the bigger man. It didn't loosen his grip, if anything it tightened it. Ted kept clawing at the man's arm, but his strength was getting progressively weaker. He tried to breath shallowly, but he still found his eyes watering up and he had to blink rapidly to keep them open at all.

Ted was flipped around, pinning against the wall with the cloth still over his mouth. He scrambled at the wall, leaving faint crimson streaks behind of the other's blood.

"You can't fight me now, Teddy-boy, so stop trying."

To Ted's credit, he fought until every last ounce of consciousness had leaked out of him. He laid limply against the wall, eyes fluttering shut as his legs started giving out on him. The cloth was held to his mouth long after he started sinking to the floor, eyes rolling into the back of his head right before he passed out.

Batista made sure the boy was out cold before he pulled the cloth away, tossing it aside. His phone ran again, making him grown.

"Fuckin' Irvine almost ruined my plan" Dave grumbled, hauling Ted up and over his shoulder. Groping the young thing's ass with one hand, he dug his cellphone out of his pocket with the other. He answered it, putting it to his ear.

"Hey Chris" Dave began politely, carrying Ted easily like a sack of potatos to the emergency exit "What's up, man? Oh…wow, really? Jake, Evan, and _and_ John? How are you guys holding up?"

Dave wasn't even listening as he pushed open the door, slipping out into the night and into the parking lot.

"That's horrible" Dave faux-sympathized, digging his keys out of his pocket and looking for the right one "No, I _don't_ know who could do such a thing. I'm completely just…blindsided by this."

//So Lispy, the Pixie, and the Attention-whore are down// Batista was grinning like a cat, but he made sure to keep his chuckles at bay for Irvine's sake //It's only a matter of time until they all go down.//

"No I can't come to the hospital, I'm sorry" Dave made sure he sounded sincere, even as he unlocked the trunk of his car and popped the hood "I've exhausted after the show tonight. I've gotta get up early tomorrow, catch a flight home…I wish I could be there for you guys."

Chris kept going on, and Dave rolled his eyes at this, //Jesus, your bitch got raped, go sit at his bed side already.//

"I promise to be careful" Batista assured the blonde "But, uh, I gotta drive, so I have to go. If you guys really need me, my muscle, call and I'll fly right back."

Dave said a quick goodbye, stuffing his phone into his back pocket before heaving the boy off his shoulder and into the trunk. He dumped him carelessly, getting a small groan from the unconscious blonde. A quick check proved Ted was still unconscious, the bigger man chuckling darkly.

"Oh, baby, we are going to have fun" Dave rumbled, snatching off the boy's hat and drinking in the sight of the cat ears atop his head. He refused to let himself touch yet, knowing it'd be all the sweeter once he got Ted alone and all to himself. Unlike Orton's bitch, Teddy here wasn't a virgin, but those soft cat features coupled with that pretty face…that tight ass and sculpted body…he was a prize worth having.

Batista slammed the trunk shut, hopping up onto it and pulling his cellphone back out. Gaining some satisfaction from having Ted trapped beneath him, he dialed a number he had come to know.

Two rings and he got an answer, "Hey there, big guy. I got my kitten all locked away in his carrier. Where do you think I should take him?"

The man replied, shocking The Animal, "Really, Kane? You want me to bring him _there_? You sure you don't want your own alone time with Brooks? Ok, if you're sure."

Batista hung up, giving a thoughtful 'huh' before knocking his fist against the trunk, "Change of plans, kitty. We're going to the Big Red Monster's house. He promised a room and toys…doesn't that sound like fun?"

Dave laughed at the silence, "I'll take that as a yes."

**xXx**

Kane dropped the phone onto the charger, a smirk twisting his features. Dave was more than welcome to take one of the upstairs bedrooms, his work was to be done downstairs. He was in his large kitchen, he just got back from the arena. A beautiful, fallen Straightedge angel lay upon his tile floor…unconscious. He was still only in his red and black kick pads and trunks, his torso bare and shining with sweat. He'd have to fix that, he'd have to bathe Phil before he started their play.

Phil would need to be clean before Kane got around to laying on his own filth.

"Come now, Philly" Kane mocked, picking the younger man up easily "I've got a special play room for you."

**xXxXxXx**

"Damn it, Ted" John muttered, still wandering around looking for his pet. His search had led him all the way down to the first floor, and he was getting tired of this game of cat-and-mouse. Ted had picked a crappy time to get playful. Cena walked up to the nurse's station, giving the rather lovely black woman behind the counter a dimpled smile.

"Hey there, honey, I'm looking for someone, think you can help me?" John asked, she fluttered her lashes a bit at him "I knew you were the one to ask" he looked at her nametag "Carrie. Pretty name."

"I always thought so" Carrie leaned against the counter, smiling right back "I see everyone who comes through here. What do they look like?"

"Oh, he's about yay tall" John gestured to his pet's height "Blonde hair, big blue eyes…baggy shirt, marine cap. Anyone like that?"

"Oh yeah" her full lips stretched into a cattish grin "Cutest little number I've seen in a while, besides yourself. Came through here looking for the vending machines. He your boy?"John didn't deny it, still smiling, "That obvious?"

"I should've known" Carrie sighed wistfully "He was just too pretty. He went that way…" he gestured toward the back hall with her pen "That's where the vending machines are. Poor little thing was parched. I remember cause I warned him that the pop machine down there can stall for almost an hour."

"Thanks" John gave her a nod, then made his way toward the direction she pointed. He turned into the hall, spotting the vending machines at the end of the hall. His step quickened, sharp eyes roaming for a glimpse of his love. He got to the machines, looking them over as if they could say where he was.

"If you're hidin'…" John drawled, taking a step only to slide a little bit "The fuck?"

John stepped back, sneering when he realized when he got something on his shoe. He braced his hand against the wall, using it to balance himself so he could raise his foot and peer down at it. He'd stepped in something red, streaking the white tile. Fucking sloppy eaters and their damn ketchup obsessions…

John realized quite suddenly their was something slick beneath his hand, he jerked away from the surface on instinct. He looked at it properly, blanching at the sight of crimson claw-like marks across the white wall. He tentatively stepped closer, giving it a harder inspection, and then down at his hand.

John rubbed his fingers together, realizing it was blood.

He followed the trail, it led down the hall and out the emergency exit. John picked up the pace, but he was careful not to lose the trail as he all but slammed the door open. He got down the steps and across the garage, heart pounding thickly in his chest at the implication of this. He was all but counting the drops, wishing he could find out who's blood this was.

John stopped at an empty parking space, the blood trail cutting off abruptly. His heart plummeted into his stomach, shattering. He looked around, hoping to find a single clue to what the hell this was. He got his wish with a grim twist, there discarded on the ground in the form of a dark military cap. John snatched it up, staring down at it with a blank expression.

His features slowly twisted up in rage, clenching his fists tight in the material,

//No, this isn't fair// John thought bitterly, not caring how selfish it was //Not Ted…not my Teddy. Not my boy. It's not fair! He doesn't deserve this!//

"Hasn't he been through enough!?" John barked at the ceiling, wishing God would hear him and fix this mess "Hasn't he suffered enough for one lifetime!? Answer me!"

Back in the hospital…a loud clang sounded in the hall, a single Dr. Pepper falling into the slot of the soda machine.

* * *

**The Ted I'm thinking of for this story (as in, what I see in my head when I use him in this particular story) is not buffed-out-Marine-2-kickass!Ted. This is more…2008 Ted when he first got on the scene. As with most of my stories, I have an image gallery with this one, but if I end up posting it on LiveJournal I'll put a note at the end of a chapter or at the end of the story. **

**Point is, if you want an accurate representation of Ted's muscle-tone and over all look…go check out his debut on the WWE. He's hot, and all you have to do is give him a blonde tail and kitten ears and you've got my Ted. **

**IMPORTANT!! I started a community for this whole 'verse, so all the stories are in one place. It's called "Under the Rose 'Verse", and it's under my communities...or however you get to it.**


	10. Chapter 10

**ACTUALLY IMPORTANT TO THE STORY!!!**

**This is different, because this chapter happened during the last one. So while all that horrible crap was happening in the last chapter, this is what was happening at the arena. Matt only knows about Jake and Evan's attacks, he has no idea Morrison was too. He hasn't gotten Chris's call. JBL still has JoMo's phone.**

* * *

_Earlier that night…_

Jeff was laying across the chair in the Hardys dressing room, trying to find a way to keep himself entertained. Matt was getting changed into his blue and black ring attire, wrestling on his boots with a little difficulty. He watched his big brother with a smile, wondering how he could've gotten so lucky. Matt could have anyone he wanted, every diva on the roster wanted a piece of the Hardy dynasty.

Maybe it was Jeff's flamboyant manner, maybe it was Matt's raven hair and thick drawl…but the ladies seemed to lean more towards Matt while he himself got many male admirers.

But Jeff knew that his brother only had eyes for him, and vice-versa. He never had to worry about his love straying for him, blood was thicker than water and all that.

Jeff snatched up his brother's script, wondering just what Matt was in store for tonight. He only had to open it to freak out, eyes widening comically at the printed words there.

"The Great Kahli and Mike Knox?" Jeff gasped "Matty, you can't possibly win this match!"

"I'm not really 'sposed to, Skittles" Matt teased, flicking his fingers toward the script "Keep reading."

Jeff obeyed, flipping through a few of pages to his match. What he found was his and Morrison's names scribbled out and written in was none other than Randy Orton and Triple H's names.

"Oh what the hell?" Jeff scoffed "Are ya tellin' me I'm writin' out?"

"Sorry, little brother" Matt came over, cupping his pet's face and dropping a kiss on his forehead "I texted Morrison, he said he wasn't going to show. They had to find an alternate match for the show's finish, and me? I'm in the filler match, I'm just buyin' them some time."

"So what am I supposed to do?" Jeff half-complained.

"Entertain yourself" Matt replied, taking a strange of violet hair and curling it around his finger "It's a lesson you have yet to learn, darlin'. This'll give you a chance to work on it."

A gleam came to Jeff's eyes, curling his fingers around the hem of his brother's tights and pulling him closer, "Or…_you_ can entertain me, Master."

Matt smirked, fisting his hand in his pet's hair and yanking his head back rather roughly. Jeff gave a little moan, his throat exposed to his brother's hungry gaze. He dipped his head down, dragging his teeth lightly up the younger man's jugular.

"There's nothin' else I'd rather do than stay here and entertain the hell out of you, Jeffy" Matt breathed hotly in his ear, making his brother shiver "But I've got a match, a match I'm getting very well paid for. Money in my pocket is food in your mouth. So I will see you when they decide I'm done."

"You're so mean" Jeff faux-whined, aching the ravenette's touch when he pulled away "Getting me hot before your match? What can I do but stay here and take care of myself?"

Matt's smirk stayed in place as his love cupped himself through his dark Tripp pants, hips already starting to undulate, "You can do that, darlin'. So when you're spent after my match, I'll just make you wait until we get back to the hotel."

"You really are mean" Jeff dropped his hand, pointedly folding them on the armchair and leaning his chin on them "Fine. I'll stay here like a good little angel, you happy?"

"Very. Now wait here for me, Jeffy."

Jeff watched his brother leave, pouting at his retreating back. He hated being left behind, and so many times he had gone out with his master to his matches (if only to sit on the sidelines.) All the energy he'd been building the past few hours was now fading out, leaving him a little more than frustrated. If he wasn't going to use it in a match, what the hell else was he supposed to use it for?

After just a few minutes, Jeff got bored and stood up. He snuck out of the dressing room, looking up and down the hall carefully to make sure Matt hadn't left anyone to watch him. When he saw no one, he gave a small grin and left. He went in search of a vending machine or maybe to watch one of the many fights that happened back her at the arena. He didn't really care where he was going, all he knew was that he'd be bored for the next hour if he couldn't find something entertaining.

Jeff peered down the hall, wondering if that was a vending machine he saw and whether or not it would have Skittles. He didn't see the man stalking him, didn't feel the fierce gaze on him.

A powerful arm nearly crushed his torso as it curled around him, trapping his arms. He let out a surprised gasp, his head already cocking forward to head butt the bastard who grabbed him in the face. But he froze when he felt something sharp digging into his back.

"Scream, Jeffy, and I'll slice you up" the hoarse threat in his ear was true, he could feel the tip of the blade cutting through his shirt and teasing the vulnerable skin beneath.

"Raven" Jeff whispered, knowing that voice from his nightmares.

"That's right, boy" Raven dragged him backward, keeping the knife -just- biting into the pale skin hidden beneath his shirt "Now just stay quiet."

Jeff briefly tried to struggle, but he'd always had a fear of knives. He froze when he felt his own skin split beneath the blade, blood just barely leaking out. He was dragged into a room, his feet fumbling a bit as he was backed up at a quick pace. He thought that he'd get a chance to get away when Raven went to shut the door, but he found out quickly that wouldn't be the case.

Raven swung Jeff's lithe body as easily as a rag doll, using his weight to slam the door shut. While Jeff cried out in pain, he pinned the younger man to said door and kept him down with his knife. He took a step away, shifting the blade in his grip before catching it under the hem of the dark t-shirt. With one graceful arch, he sliced the material open up the back. Jeff yelped at this, flattening himself against the door to get away.

"Strip, Jeffy" Raven commanded softly, the tip of the knife going back to the smooth skin of his spine.

"In your dreams" Jeff spat, sounding more confident than he actually was.

"Come on, Pretty, let me see that hot little body of yours" Raven growled, striking out with his free hand and pinning the Hardy down by the back of his neck "Strip…or your big brother is going to find you here poisoned by your own body."

Jeff whimpered, knowing that Raven was fucking crazy and wouldn't hesitate to stab him in the kidney. God, a kidney wound…left alone in this room for who know how long…pure acid and waste would leak into his system, and it would most definitely kill him. He hated himself for even debating this, but the threat of death was a strong one. Not to mention the presence of the knife already had his adrenaline flowing, his anxiety high.

"I hate you" Jeff whispered, heart hurting.

"I know, Pretty" Raven smirked "Do it."

//I'm sorry, Matt// Jeff thought forlornly, his fingers shaking as he eased his torn shirt off his shoulders //Please finish early and come get me. Don't let him do this to me.//

Raven looked on, eyes dark with lust as the violet haired man obeyed his request. The shirt fell away first, then the buckle armbands were peeled away. He hesitated then, getting a deeper jab in the muscles along his back. Jeff let out this little whine, hands falling to his pants. He worked at the buttons of his fly, pulling down the small zipper. Raven couldn't stop the little groan of satisfaction that escaped him when Jeff finally dropped his pants, revealing his tight boxers.

Jeff cast the disgusting man a nasty look over his shoulder, "Matt's gonna kill you for this. He's beaten men bloody for touchin' me…how do you think _you'll_ fair?"

"I'll take my chances" Raven replied, using this chance to release Jeff's neck and yank the handcuffs out from his back pocket "Boxers too, Rainbow."

Jeff cursed at him in what almost sounded like Latin, but he hooked his thumbs in the sides of his boxers and pushed them down. His face flushed in shame, tears shining in his emerald eyes. He hated every part of this, wishing his big brother would charge in like he always did. This wasn't the first time someone had gotten fresh with him, had tried to force themselves on him, but it had never been at knife point. If he couldn't fight them off himself, Matt had always been around to yank the guy off him.

Either Matt or another master from the Court…where _was_ everyone?

Jeff yelped when cold metal was fastened around one of his wrists, dread rising in his throat as half-formed fantasies of what was about to go down went through his head. The knife stayed in his back, even as the older man grabbed him by the back of the neck and dragged him away from the door. He stumbled a bit, but found himself dragged like an unruly dog to the leather couch across the room. He was forced onto his knees, fighting a bit but eventually was pushed face-down into the leather seat.

There was a moment when the knife fell away and Raven draped over him, Jeff chose this moment to start really fighting. Raven had almost forty pounds on him, and the man almost squeezed the breath out of him while grabbing his wrists and pinning him up by the corners of the cushion. His right hand was pushed down past the cushion, despite his squirming, and Raven used both his hands to latch the other open handcuff to one of the main frame inside the inner-couch.

"The hell?" Jeff barked, pulling at his wrist and testing the hold. It was completely solid, it wouldn't budge at all. Raven snickered in his ear, and the Hardy found his other wrist taken in the older man's grip as well. A second pair of handcuffs was snapped onto his wrist, the intention obvious.

"Get the fuck off me!" Jeff grunted, trying to elbow the blonde in the ribs to no avail. As his hand was getting stuffed down behind the cushion to get latched on the other side, he got desperate and lunged at the other's arm. Jeff latched his teeth into the flesh of his forearm, biting down for all he was worth, only to get a soft moan in response.

"Mm, you learn fast, Jeffy. A little harder, baby."

Jeff released his flesh, gagging in disgust as horror washed through him. His hand was pushed down into the depth of the couch, handcuffed firmly to the inside. He looked up, trying to pull his hands back, grunting when he felt the metal bite into his skin. His hands were buried down between the leather, nothing visible after the line of his wrists. He felt around his with his fingers, but the frame was steel instead of wood, there was no way he'd break it.

Raven stood up cautiously, making sure the boy wasn't going anywhere before his smugness returned. Jeff was squirming enough, that was for sure, but he couldn't break the steel frame.

Jeff froze suddenly, a soft sound meeting his ear. He realized very quickly the predicament he was in, naked and unable to get up off his knees…bent over a couch. He was vulnerable, open to whatever the man had in mind. And this was Raven! One of the kinkiest, sickest fucks in professional wrestling. All of his willing lovers had told hushed stories of riding crops and thick restraints, bondage seemed to be his specialty. Not to mention his more unwilling 'exploits' with some of the X-Division over in TNA, those poor boys were only prey to this man.

And now Jeff was doomed to be on that list.

Jeff whimpered when leather brushed over his lower back, trailing up his side until it traced across his shoulder blades. He jerked away from it, but that only got him a low chuckle. The leather slipped closer to his neck, he instinctively started gasping when it curled around his neck.

"Feel this?" Raven whispered in the violet haired man's ear, pulling the leather coil tighter around his neck "This is a whip. Your big brother ever use one of these on you?" Jeff swallowed thickly, giving a strangled groan. "No? Really? A dark boy like Matt never using a whip? Then this will be new for you, won't it?"

Jeff choked in fear instead of strangulation when the end of the whip scraped across his neck, revealing the metal tip, "God, no…Scott, please don't…"

It was barely a whisper, but it was begging nonetheless.

"It's going to leave such pretty scars all over you" Raven hissed into his neck, right before biting down savagely. The Hardy cried out, but cut off the sound when he realized he was giving his tormentor just what he wanted. He stepped back, grabbing the tie of Jeff's hair and tugging it loose. The violet locks spilled past his shoulders, over his neck, touching his cheeks. It was a beautiful sight, the lavender and dark purple contrasting nicely with his light skin. Appealing…tasty, even.

Jeff actually sighed when the man backed off him, relaxing into the leather couch. He psyched himself out, his mind tricking his body into thinking he had nothing to fear. Matt was going to bust him and save him, and that's all there was to it. His brother would never let something like this happen, never!

"Oh, Jeffy, by the way" Raven stated off-handedly, slowly pulling back his arm "You can scream now, this room is sound proof."

Jeff's eyes widened in terror, right before the first blow came. It was like sharp fire across his back, the metal tip digging in just enough to cut into his skin. It was a sensation he had never known, and he wished desperately he could give it back. The sound was almost as bad as the pain, he crack ringing in his ears. The second blow was sharper, crossing over the first.

And Raven just kept going, each sound and cut overlapping into the next. He did scream, screamed for mercy and for it to be over. But most of all, he screamed for his brother. His blood poured down his back in rivulets, he could feel it tickling his sides before pooling on the floor. Crimson bled into his other permanent artwork, blending the colors and making his once artistic designs macabre.

And Jeff could only scream more when the whip cut a line across the Hardy symbol on his back, his blood staining his master's ultimate claim on him.

**xXx**

Matt came back from his grueling thirty-five minute match, wincing and limping back down the steps from the gorilla position. He was bruised up, the giants hadn't give him any slack. He'd been pinned, the win going to Knox. And damn, his head was still throbbing. He could feel a migraine building at the base of his skull, if he let it go full-fledge he knew he'd get mean - even with his baby brother.

A Hardy migraine was not a thing to be messed around with.

Strong, small hands rested at his waist, supporting, "Take it easy."

Matt cracked an eye open, lips quirking when he saw Helms there, "Hey, man."

"You need some help?" Greg asked, knowing the answer already. The Hardy shook his head, but found a supportive arm around his waist anyway.

"Come on, you stubborn shit" Greg grumbled, taking his friend's arm over his shoulder "You're no use to Jeff like this. Let's get the trainers to look you over, get you some aspirin."

"Thanks, man" Matt let his friend guide him down the hall, smiling gratefully "But maybe I should swing by my room and grab Jeff…"

"I'm sure Jeff can handle an hour without you" Greg teased good-naturedly.

Matt put his thumb to his temple, hissing when he felt the thick vein there starting to throb, "Yeah, let me swallow down some painkillers before I go back. He won't appreciate me being cross with him over nothin'."

Both continued down the hall, neither realizing that Jeff needed him now more than ever.

**xXx**

Jeff didn't know how long he was put through this whipping torture, all he knew was when it stopped. It took him a long minute to realize the whip wasn't coming back down, and he sobbed in relief. Yet, he was already crying. His shame was shown from the slick evidence on his cheeks, emerald eyes blood-shot. He hadn't cried so hard since he was a child, but to be fair he hadn't hurt this much since he busted his tail bone.

No…no, this was worse.

Raven looked down at his pretty prize, hard cock twitching inside the stifling confines of his jeans. None of those X-Division brats had ever gotten him so worked up, no matter how much he trussed them up. He memorized every gash he'd laid down upon the Hardy, dark crimson staining his pale skin in a way that was nothing short of delicious.

And the mar he was most proud of? The deep lash across the colorful Hardy tattoo decorating the expanse of Jeff's back. Cut across, degrading him, making Matt's claim just that much weaker.

Raven got down behind the younger man, spreading his hand across his lower back. Jeff hissed and arched away, the lashes hot beneath the blonde's touch. He gathered the blood up, coating his fingers in it. He couldn't keep the smirk off his face, anticipation thick in his chest. He shoved two fingers inside the boy, making Jeff cry out in pain.

"Stop" Jeff begged, hair damp with sweat and sticking to his face "You got what you wanted…I'm punished…"

"No, Jeffy, I haven't gotten _all_ that I wanted yet" Raven stated lowly, savoring the groan of pain that escaped the other when he shoved in harder before slipping out "I'm going to take _everything_ from you that I can."

Jeff felt the older man opening his pants, getting ready for what was to come. He was still silently praying for his brother to come, ready to endure more of the whip if it meant he could avoid this fate. This was the ultimate betrayal, the ultimate trespass. He was Matt's, and only Matt's. This was wrong on so many levels.

Raven gathered more of the Enigma's blood, slicking his aching cock with it. He latched a hand onto Jeff's hip, sticky with blood but smooth beneath his fingers. With one swift push, he pierced the Hardy.

Jeff wailed, his body stretched to the point of tearing. The merciless thrust rocked him forward, pushing his chest harder into the leather and burning his knees against the carpet. Raven buried himself deep inside his body, just resting there to draw out the pain. The older man seemed to be gathering his composure, panting roughly and clenching his eyes shut.

A full minute of no movement, the burn of penetration trickled into Jeff's entire body like thick molasses.

Raven draped himself over the other, earning a hiss even as he brushed the violet colored hair aside. He moved each strand almost delicately, drinking in the moment as he exposed the nape of Jeff's neck.

"At first…I wanted your brother" Raven began softly, keeping himself buried inside that tight ass "The though of breaking something so strong, so dark…of conquering someone like that was just too much of a temptation. Matthew was my siren for so long. Then I saw how gentle he was with you, his baby brother…his colorful shadow…and the challenge to break you was just as tempting."

Jeff bit down harder, locking his jaw until he tasted bitter leather. He didn't want to give Raven the satisfaction of working anymore sounds out of him, each one made him feel like he was giving in just that much more. The thought of his strong brother in this position made him feel almost guilty, though he couldn't figure out why. Everything was a jumble of pain and humiliation, the seeds of doubt being sewn.

Raven started thrusting, the Hardy's blood slicking the way just enough to keep him from shredding him from the inside out. It didn't stop it from hurtling like hell though, the friction leaving him raw. One agony folded into the next, sending violent shivers through his body. At one point, Raven's hand came up to his neck and unhooked his necklace. A mournful whine escaped Jeff as he felt his Hardy necklace slip from his skin, thumping against the carpet. Between violent thrusts, Jeff ducked his head down and cracked his eyes open to look.

The silver Hardy symbol lay there, splattered with his own blood.

"Matt…" Jeff murmured, then gave a surprised yep when a hand was fisted in his hair and forced his head backward. He used to love having his hair pulled a bit, but only by his master. Only Matt could ever get him off on the pain, and even then it was in measured amounts. His master knew how hard to push, how much he could take.

Being so brutally taken was messing with him mentally.

"You subs think you're so much better than all the other bitches in this business?" Raven growled into his ear, getting angrier and more turned on with each thrust into the tightness he had dreamed of for so long "You're nothing more than glorified whores, greedily kept by your 'masters' from everyone else why they keep a piece of ass on hand at all hours. How many times have you been bent over in front of the others? How many times has your brother fucked you in public? Tell me he hasn't passed you around a bit?"

"N-Never" Jeff panted through the tears, knowing Matt loved him. The closest he'd ever gotten to another man was a few heavy petting sessions with Jay, but that was with the express permission of their masters. It had only been a few times, but it was a lazy comfort between them. It was a strange experience to have someone's arms around you, to be hugging them back just as tight, to be kissing someone and know that they didn't want anything from you. They both knew it wasn't some forbidden sub-love as Nitro had tried to spin it. They had a different connection together, he and Jay.

It was nothing as perverted as this.

"Truth is, Jeffy" Raven taunted cruelly, still keeping up his merciless pace "Without your tight asses and pretty faces…you'd be nothing to your precious masters."

"You're wrong" Jeff managed to grunt out, smirking through his pain "You _wish_…it was that shallow."

Raven growled, scoring his nails over the Hardy's hips. He snatched up his knife, stilling his movements

"What makes you so special, huh boy?" Raven put the blade just beneath the younger man's limp cock, a threatening gesture if there ever was one "What if I were to _really_ mutilate you? If I cut you just right, you'd be useless to your brother. Would he ever touch something so hideous? So deformed?"

Jeff buried his face in the couch, silently praying for mercy.

"He would never touch something as disgusting as I could make you" Raven tightened his grip on the younger man's hair, getting a faint whine from him "His love would be shown for what it is: lust. There are no deep feelings, nothing more complex than how pretty I keep you."

Jeff hated that he started to think about this, started to consider this as the truth. Would Matt keep him if he lost his usefulness?

//Don't think like that// Jeff scolded himself //He's just jealous that you love Matt, and that he loves you back. He wishes he could have something so pure, so complete. Don't let him get into your head.//

Raven dropped the knife, starting his brutal rhythm back up again. Soon enough, feeling the blood beneath his fingers and the tight sheath fluttering around his cock, he spilled deep inside the younger man. He stayed there for a long minute, soaking up the satisfaction of gaining a victory over the Hardys. He stroked the trembling body beneath his, greedily gathering up the sensations.

Raven was a smart man, he knew he would not get such a chance again. This was a one-time thing, and he truly didn't care whether or not Jeff enjoyed it or not. This was about pain and lust, sating the beast within him so he could function again.

Raven pulled out of the boy's used hole, loving the blood and cum that leaked out. He didn't have much time, he snatched up the Hardy necklace from beneath Jeff's body.

"Seems our fun's over, baby Hardy…"

**xXx**

Matt had charged back into his street clothes, but he stayed in the make-shift clinic the trainers had set up. He sat on one of the benches, head tilted back against the wall and eyes closed. His headache was fading away thank to that extra-strength Tylenol they had given him, nipping it in the bud before it got out of hand. Minutes trickled by, the pain continuing to lessen before disappearing all-together.

//I better get back// Matt sighed, getting to his feet //Who knows what trouble Jeff got into while I was gone.//

Matt waved off the trainers concerns, picking up his ring-jacket and folding it over his arm. It was a size too big, he needed to get it taken in but he kept forgetting. Matt began making his track back to his dressing room, Greg had already taken his duffle bag to his dressing room. He pulled a black tie out of his pocket, pulling his long hair back into a tight, low ponytail. His fingers did it all on instinct, after so many years he didn't have to think about the act anymore. Instead, his mind was on his brother and how they'd have to go back to the hospital after this. Jeff had been so worried about Evan, though he hadn't said much in the ride over here. But Jeff had been chewing at his nails the entire time, a sign of stress, and that was all his big brother had to know.

He didn't pay attention an took a wrong turn. He realized his mistake half way down the hall, scowling and stopping. Silently scolding himself, Matt turned around to get back to the right hall, but stopped when something caught his eye. There was a door a bit away, non-conspicuous as could be, except for the silver necklace that hung around the doorknob. He stepped closer, peering at the pendant dangling form the chain. He snatched up the necklace, plucking it off the doorknob and palming it carefully. This looked like the one Jeff had been wearing earlier, but they all looked the same.

Matt swiped his thumb over it, half-dried blood staining the digit.

"Jeff…" Matt breathed, then the anger took over and he twisted open the knob "Jeff?!"

The door swung open, revealing an almost-empty room. Matt's quick eyes fell directly on his brother, lips parting in a half-gasp. His coat dropped from his limp arms, barely catching it with a swift clutch of his fingers. He found his brother, but not in the condition he had left him in.

Jeff seemed to be restrained to the leather couch in the middle of the room, his body forced over the seat with his ass on display. On his knees…blood dripping down his thighs and hips. Dark lashes criss-crossed over the expanse of his back and thighs, showing torture with a whip. The dark marks indicated it wasn't a normal leather whip, something must've cut him.

"Jeff?" Matt all but ran over to his pet's side, dropping to his knees by the couch. Jeff had his cheek pressed to the leather cushion, eyes clenched shut and violet hair spilling over his face and across his shoulders. Those cat-like emerald eyes fluttered open, focusing on his face.

"Matty?" Jeff rasped, throat raw.

"Who did this to you, love?" Matt inquired softly, gently brushing his brother's hair aside to reveal his tear-streaked face "Who would dare attack you like this?"

Jeff swallowed thickly, "Raven."

"Bastard" Matt instantly spat, eyes roaming over the younger man's body. He dug his hand between the cushion, feeling around his brother's wrists to realize he was handcuffed.

"H-He left a key" Jeff shuddered, the small cuts on his wrists stinging as he shifted 'He said he did."

Matt looked around him, a bit of silver catching his eye. There was a small silver key between Jeff's knees, a single smear of blood on it. He reached down and took up the key, glancing at his ass briefly.

"Did he rape you, Jeff?" Matt forced himself to stay calm, reaching down into the couch and unlocking the handcuffs. Jeff nodded, retracting his hands and bringing them to his chest. He hurt so bad, every flex brought a fresh wave of pain. The blood was starting to dry on his skin, making it itch. Every inch from his back the curve of his thighs felt hot and raw, tender.

"Steel-tipped whip" was all Jeff could muster, panting as he tried to sit up. Matt kept his panic down, picking up his ring-coat and wrapping it around his brother's slim shoulders.

"I have to get you to our dressing room, get you clothes" Matt stated, trying to put his mind into order so he didn't just whirl through this arena like the whirlwind he could be "Then to the hospital."

"No, Matt" Jeff whispered, shaking his head weakly.

"Yes" Matt snapped fiercely, not giving room for argument. His pet nodded obediently, the lashes on his back showing that his master was right.

"Can you walk, love?" Matt asked, getting another shake of his head. He started buttoning up the jacket, closing it to conceal his nudity. The tender act touched Jeff's heart, dispelling some of Raven's words. Matt loved him, he said it with each soft word and the concern in his eyes. Most would've ran away at the sight of their lover defiled like this, but not Matt.

His master, his big brother, his love…stayed by his side and controlled his rage to take care of him.

"It'll hurt if I carry you. Can you take it?"

"Yes" Jeff bit back another sob, fresh tears welling in his eyes "Can we just leave?"

Matt slipped his arms under his brother's body, picking him up bridal style. Jeff hissed, but let himself be carried. It was either endure the pain from the lashes or stay here, his legs were all but useless. His knees throbbed, thighs burned, lower back all but locked up under the torture.

Matt kept Jeff cradled close, rage building up in him and mixing with hysteria. In an almost daze, he carried his brother back to their dressing room. There he toweled away most of the blood, dressing him in some clean clothes. He found Greg again in the hall, telling him quite firmly that he needed his help and to keep his mouth shut. Greg nodded, taking up both the Hardys duffles and lugging them over his shoulders.

While Matt carried his baby brother, Greg took the bags happily. They got to the car, the bags piled in the front seat while Jeff was eased along the back seat. The purple haired man laid out along his belly, his brother's hands ghosting across his figure to help him get comfortable.

"Just relax, my love, I'll get you to the hospital where the others are" Matt whispered, Greg making a quiet exit "They'll fix you up, make the pain go away."

"I'm sorry" Jeff muttered, hands curled up by his head as he undulated against the wide seat.

"For what, Jeff?" Matt inquired, taking one of his brother's hands and stroking his thumb over the knuckles "You didn't do anything, don't even think it. This wasn't your fault."

"I know that, I fought him as hard as I could" Jeff gave his brother a heartbreaking look "But I let him get into my head. He…he made me doubt you…and I'm sorry for that."

"It's fine, love, it doesn't matter" Matt soothed his brother's worry, dropping a kiss onto his hand "Now try to keep still, I'll be careful when I drive."

After Matt shut the door, his phone rang. He growled in annoyance, but plucked the device out of his black and silver designed jacket. He answered it, slipping into the driver's seat.

"Yeah?"

Matt started the car, listening to Chris as he maneuvered out of the parking lot one-handed. He'd managed the skill with such talkative friends, but this was much more serious. As Matt started on the main road and merged into traffic, his expression turning into one of horror. Jericho told him everything that had happened in the past hours, describing how the other subs were attacked.

There was a possibility Jake would never wake up…Evan was sick, and now Morrison was found raped and beaten. Phil was captured on live TV, and Ted had disappeared with a blood trail after him.

Matt quickly filled Chris in about what had happened to Jeff, told him that they'd be there in less than a half hour. Then Jericho told him about not being able to get a hold of Edge.

"I'll call Adam myself" Matt growled "It's best he hears this from me."

Chris agreed, hanging up.

Matt stopped at the light, the sudden stop made Jeff whine.

"I'm sorry, love" he whispered, reaching back briefly and petting his brother's hair. Jeff nuzzled into the touch, eyelids heavy. Matt turned back around, managing to dial and put the phone to his ear before the light changed. It rang, with each sound his anger increased.

The line clicked, Edge answered.

"Adam, listen closely" Matt began firmly "I just got the call from Chris, and it ain't good. We are _high_ alert here, Adam, this is some serious shit. Someone is making a big move, and their making it fast. They've gotten almost everyone."

Matt scoffed at the man, "What am I talkin' about? I'm talkin' about Swagger getting beaten into a coma, Evan getting raped by Styles of all people. They just found Morrison, gang-banged and barely able to walk with JBL involved somehow. Kane _took_ Punk, and Ted's been abducted by God knows who! Fuckin' _Raven_ took Jeff and handcuffed him down, whipped him and…"

Matt sucked in a sharp breath, "The point is: We're under attack. You are one of the last ones to get out of this, and you need to get to St. Mercy's hospital."

Edge started inquiring about the others in a serious tone, but somehow that pissed Matt off more. He struck the steering wheel, face twisting up in a snarl.

"Would you fuckin' listen!?" Matt barked "It's too late for them! We got blindsided and our pets are suffering. These fuckers are tricky, they're underhanded, and they will get us all. But you've got a _chance_. I couldn't protect Jeff, but _you_ can save Jay. Where is he right now?"

Matt nearly dropped the phone, eyes widening.

"Adam…" Matt choked, trying to clear the rasp from his throat "Go find him. Right. _Now_."

* * *

**I'm actually enjoying writing all this…is that bad? Does that make me a future serial killer? Goodness, I hope not *innocent look* I mean, I don't actually want to kill anyone**

**No, I just think it's weird that I'm in such a dark place. I think it's repressed emotions breaking free through into my writing, angry and depressed feelings put into a safe context where I don't have to deal with them head-on and instead use hero figures to save the ones I hurt (fictionally.)**

**I think I'm a little too young to be using that many defense mechanisms. **


	11. Chapter 11

**This chapter happens at the last part of the last chapter, at the same time. The only way to really sync everything is by the phone calls. I'm sorry it's kind of confusing, but that's how the musi want it *helpless shrug* I'm just a slave to their whims and my own deeply-buried emotions.**

* * *

_At the hotel…_

Adam listened to his phone belt out a mixed rendition of "_Don't You Wish You Were Me?_", massaging his temple in an exasperated way. He was seated in front of the hotel window, peering out at the dark ocean front. It was one of the reasons he'd been excited to come to Tampa, for he wasn't one for humid weather. The view was amazing, and the inky darkness of the water gave him a sense of tranquility. A few stars dotted the sky, piercing the constant shadow of the night.

Jay sat there on the floor between his legs, staring off at the wall in thought. This was the third time the phone had rang in only the past half hour, it was starting to worry him. A red flannel shirt was half-buttoned up his slim form, fitting him loosely.

"Shouldn't you answer it?" Jay questioned, tipping his head back to look up at his master.

"No" Adam grunted "I'm in no mood to listen to Chris bitch."

Edge had lost his match earlier, Finlay had played dirty and gotten the win on pure strength alone. It had pissed the blonde off immensely, since he had been scheduled to win anyways. He had ranted all the way back here, finally working himself up to where he just didn't want to talk about it anymore.

The last thing he had uttered was a bitter, _And people get pissed when __**I**__ cheat…_

Jay could feel the tension radiating off his master in thick waves, something had been bothering him. Ever since that first ignored phone call, Adam seemed to be on edge.

"Are you going to share those deep thoughts?" Jay asked, for he was unnerved when ever his brother was in such deep thought "You've been uneasy all day."

"I don't know what it is" Adam admitted, chin cradled in his palm as he gazed out the window "I just feel like…there's something wrong, you know? Like there's this dark cloud rolling over us and I can't stop it. It feels like the universe is telling me to…brace for impact."

Little did he know it was hours too late for those kinds of thoughts to be helpful.

"Your spider-sense tingling?" the smaller blonde teased, squeezing his master's calf "Want me to hook up the bat-signal?"

"I'm serious" Adam laughed, reaching down and cupping his brother's neck. He massaged the warm skin, getting lost in the sensation. His fingers lowly worked up into the crop of flaxen hair, touch easing into a caress of sorts. Jason's eyes fluttered shut, he leant back into his master's hand.

Adam gazed down at his pet fondly, the blessed out expression on the ECW Champion's face enough to make him content, "You're beautiful…you know that?"

A flush worked it's way across Jay's face, his nose crinkling up cutely, "Don't."

"Why do you always get so pissy when I say how pretty you are?"

"Don't call me pretty" Jay grumbled, a tone of regret behind his voice "I know how old I am and I know what my reflection looks like. I haven't been anywhere near 'pretty' since I was twenty-four. I'm handsome, maybe…"

Jay turned his head away, cracking his eyes open, "Nothing like you, Addy. You haven't aged a day in a decade."

"Get up here, angel."

Jay hesitated, but crawled up the bigger man's body until he was straddling his lap. Adam reached up, cradling his pet's jaw with both hands and peering into his cerulean eyes. A face that was as familiar as his own, their irises only shades a part and skin tone near the same. To him, there was none other as perfect as his Jason. He was beautiful in every way, strong, vibrant even, his spitfire. Their bodies slotted together perfectly, molding just the right way every time. Even after spending so much time apart professionally, they were closer than ever.

Edge was dominating _Smackdown_ while Christian was the _ECW_ Champion.

"You're perfect" Adam stated truthfully.

Jay gave him a coy look from under the veil of his lashes, "Do I still please you after all these years, Master?"

The coquettish voice sent a shiver up Adam's spine, one hand dropping down to caress the smaller blonde's thigh.

"More than" Adam replied, voice lower "I still want you every moment of the day, no matter where we are."

"You're just trying to get into my pants" Jay grinned, curling his fingers around his master's wrists.

"You know it" Adam growled, pulling his brother down into a fierce kiss. Jay responded eagerly, parting his lips and engaging his master in a languid taste. He felt a bit claimed, his master's hot touch burning him through his jeans.

The rumble of a stomach broke them apart, Jay's blush returning.

"Sorry."

"It's ok, angel" Adam smiled, running his hands more innocently over his lover's arms "You hungry?"

"I'm starving" Jay admitted, easing off the blonde's lap "I'm going to get a pizza. What do you want on it?"

"I'll come with" Adam stood, stretching out his long frame. Jay sat down on the bed, grabbing his shoes to work onto his feet. He strolled out of the room, snagging his cellphone and wallet. He expected his pet to follow soon enough, so let the door fall closed behind him. The blonde started scrolling through his messages, rolling his eyes when he saw one from Chris. He stopped at the elevator, deciding that he should call his friend.

Instead, the old Hardy theme sand out and made him jump.

"Hey Matt" Adam put the phone to his ear, glad that it was his best friend "Did Chris tell you to call me? He's been keeping my phone busy all day."

"_Adam, listen closely_" Matt did _not_ sound happy "_I just got the call from Chris, and it ain't good. We are __**high**__ alert here, Adam, this is some serious shit. Someone is making a big move, and their making it fast. They've gotten almost everyone._"

Adam pressed the button on the elevator, brow drawn, "What are you talking about? You sound hysterical, man."

Matt scoffed roughly over the line, the blonde stepped into the elevator. He put his finger on the hold button, still giving the ravenette his full attention.

"_What am I talkin' about? I'm talkin' about Swagger getting beaten into a coma, Evan getting raped by Styles of all people. They just found Morrison, gang-banged and barely able to walk with JBL involved somehow. Kane __**took**__ Punk, and Ted's been abducted by God knows who! Fuckin' __**Raven**__ took Jeff and handcuffed him down, whipped him and…_"

Matt sucked in a sharp breath, "_The point is: We're under attack. You are one of the last ones to get out of this, and you need to get to St. Mercy's hospital._"

Adam's finger slipped off the button, hand falling limp to his side. He gaped at the wall of the elevator, eyes wide yet seeing nothing as shock took over him. All of them? Ted and Phil just…_gone_? Shawn's precious boy passed around and beaten? Poor Jeff, _whipped_ of all things? Styles, Bradshaw, Kane, Levy…what the hell? He found his lips curling around inquiries of the others health, all on autopilot. He couldn't wrap his mind around it, so many of their boys hurt and in the _hospital_?

Merciless.

A thump on the closed elevator doors startled him, he'd forgotten his pet.

"Jackass" came from behind the doors before the elevator started it descent.

Adam put the cell to his ear briefly, calling out when he knew it was too late, "Sorry babe."

"_Would you fuckin' listen!?_" Matt barked at him, getting his attention back "_It's too late for them! We got blindsided and our pets are suffering. These fuckers are tricky, they're underhanded, and they will get us all. But you've got a __**chance**__. I couldn't protect Jeff, but __**you**__ can save Jay. Where is he right now?_"

Adam watched the numbers at the top of the doors descend from four to three…two…

"I…I don't know" Adam admitted.

"_Adam…_" Matt's voice was a low growl "_Go find him. Right. __**Now**__._"

The elevator stopped, the doors opening after a few long moments. He hung up, barely having enough sense to shove it into his pocket before all but running out of the elevator. He looked around the lobby, finding only the receptionist behind the desk with his headphones plugged in and a man behind the breakfast bar. Wait, that man was Tomko.

"Hey!" Adam walked up to him, leaning on the bar and searching the surprised man's face "Did you see Christian come through here?"

"Yeah, Copeland, he went up the other elevator" Tomko nodded his head towards the doors "Came down the stairs, grumbling about something. I asked him if he wanted to head out for a beer, but he said he was going back to his room. Dunno why."

Adam relaxed, heart rate slowing, "Oh…thanks, man."

"Sure" Tomko nodded, watching the man walk away. Adam went back to the elevator at a more languid pace, pressing the button before stepping inside. With a nod, he disappeared behind the closed doors and went back up to the fourth floor. Tomko broke into a smirk, stepping away from the bar and looking down.

AJ was crouched there on the floor, looking up at him with a cattish grin, "Think he fell for it, T?""Yeah, AJ" Tomko replied with a snicker "Wasn't hard, though. You say Christian's gonna get the fucking of his life?"

"Mm-hmm" AJ stood up, curling his hands over his friends beefy shoulder before resting his chin on them "It's gonna be the perfect picture of nothing more than a hard, vicious, animalistic fuck. No mercy. No lube. Just…the satiation of lust."

Tomko wet his lips, wrapping an arm around his tag-team partners waist, "Can we watch?"

A cry echoed from the stairwell, signaling the fast show was starting.

"If we hurry."

**xXx**

_A bit earlier…_

Jay hurried out of the room, stuffing his wallet into his back pocket. He watched his brother walk into the elevator without an ounce of hesitation, on his cellphone. He rolled his eyes, but didn't rush. Adam would hold it for him.

"Hey!" Jay started when the doors began to shut, running only to get them to close in his face. He tried to open them, but it was too late. He struck it hard with the heels of his hands, giving a little huff.

"Jackass."

A sincere "sorry, babe" echoed behind the metal. Jay's lips twitched, but soon turned up in a full-fledge smile. He couldn't stay mad at his master, not even for a few minutes.

Without a grumble, he made his way to the stairwell and pushed open the door. It was colder here, the cement steps radiating the chill. They were up four flights, and the sight of all the stairs made him want to complain. But instead he started down it, taking his time just to annoy Adam. His Puma sneakers slapped loudly on the steps, the rest was silence.

Jay continued down the stairs without a real thought except for what he wanted on his pizza, his hungry belly threatening to growl more if it wasn't fed. He continued down, fingers just grazing along the railing. When he turned the corner, passing the second-floor door and finally catching sight of the first-floor, he just happened to look back over his shoulder. It was just a moment, and it was only because he wondered why the second-floor door was propped open with a wooden wedge.

But when Jay turned his head back, he only saw a flash of black and fierce blue eyes before he was winded. The blonde doubled over after the swift punch, the next one catching him in the jaw. It knocked him sideways, stars flashing behind his eyelids at the sheer force of the solid blow.

There was a sick thud of Jay's head smacking off the handrail, the skin splitting under the force. His temple got the brunt of the impact, jarring his very brain. Things got a little blurry after that for Jay, his world spun and narrowed down to the cold stairs digging into his back and the blood slicking his face. He blinked and squirmed, sharp pains plucking at his muscles.

When the stars finally did stop spinning, the world came back in a dull focus. He was completely confused to why he could feel the sharp ends of the cold stairs digging into the back of his legs, his lower back, his thighs. But something was holding him down, someone was holding him down.

Angle quickly pinned Christian down on his back while he was still reeling from the blows, ripping open the fly of his jeans. While the blonde groaned beneath him, he ripped the pants down his legs and off to the side. Boxers followed next, his hungry eyes and hands drinking in the sight and feel of those shapely legs.

"W-What are…?" Jay managed to stutter out, shifting around and trying to gain back his bearings. He became conscious of the man above him, seeing his face and just knowing he was in trouble.

Kurt fumbled with his own pants, unzipping his jeans and reaching inside to release his engorged member. He slicked the swollen flesh with only his spit, only caring about his own pleasure. Though the blonde started pushing at his shoulders, squirming a bit and making soft sounds of distress, that didn't stop the Olympian from parting his thighs carelessly and forcing himself between them. His fingers briefly sought the tight entrance, then shoved inside.

With a bit of rough friction, the rosebud gave way into the lithe body. Kurt groaned in pure satisfaction, the sheer heat of the sheath sent pleasurable shivers through him. He grabbed onto the younger man's thigh, hiking it high around his hips to give him full access.

"Wait, Angle, the fuck!?" Christian cried out, trying to buck him off and while pushing off his heavy body "Get off me! Don't you _dare_ touch me!"

"Too late, Chrissy" Kurt taunted mercilessly, clamping a hand over Captain Charisma's mouth to shut him up "I'm gonna tear this tight ass up. I'm gonna make you bleed, bitch."

Jay screamed into the sweaty palm, just lucid enough to feel every rough thrust shredding up his insides. No prep, no lube…his body wasn't used to such treatment. Sure, Adam could get intense, but never would hurt him like this. He bled just enough for it all to burn, not enough to make this hell any easier. His whole head felt two sizes too big, lined with cotton. A sort of vertigo took over him, he was unsure what was real. Reality faded in and out, time slowing and speeding up with the brute still taking advantage of him. Nausea built up in the back of his throat, flooding his senses.

In Jay's experience, he was pretty sure he'd gotten himself a concussion.

"Wish I could cut you up a bit more" Kurt laughed at him, a husky sound "I didn't even want you that much in the start, bitch."

"Why then?" Jay rasped.

"I'm going to show him I'm the better man, once and for all" Kurt smirked, digging his teeth into the smaller man's neck "And that you're a slut…and you should be treated like one."

Angle grunted and panted in his ear like a feral animal, working his thigh length into his not-so-willing partner at a excruciating speed. He took pleasure with out remorse, eyes glazed over as he dominated the man who's shadow he'd lived in for almost four years. Well, the "Instant Classic" wasn't so perfect now, was he? Where were his Peeps now? Christian was pinned beneath him like a helpless rabbit, unable to fight now that he was in his talons.

So Kurt took his rights, he dined his fill and savored the harsh revenge.

Jay couldn't get free no matter how much he tried, but he yelled as much as he could. The ruthless animal on top of him didn't get him an inch of breathing room, just taking what he wanted. He clawed at the man's wrist with one hand, the other struggling to support himself on the steps. He scrambled to get some leverage, but the pain and the gash on his head was making things a little difficult.

Jay cracked open his teary eyes, seeing the door of the first floor so close yet way out of his reach. Wait, there was someone in the window…two people…

//AJ!// his panicked brain scrambled at this //T-Tomko? What the fuck!?//

His former friends were grinning at him through the glass slate in the door, AJ even waved and blew him a kiss. Jay felt his heart pull, wishing desperately they would help him. Why the fuck were they just standing there?! Couldn't they see what the hell Angle was doing to him!? He screamed out for them, but got nothing more than laughter.

"They're not on your side, baby" Kurt hissed in his ear, sending goosebumps up his spine "Not anymore."

AJ breathed hotly on the glass, creating condensation, before drawing a little heart.

//Traitors// Jay thought bitterly, seething //Bastards, all of them!//

Angle finished as soon as he could, knowing he didn't have a lot of time before Adam stumbled upon them. He came hard, growling loudly as he found his release. After a few moments, he sighed and tucked himself back in his pants.

"Been fun, bitch" Kurt grabbed a handful of flaxen hair, stealing just a taste of the man's lips "Consider that payback for stealing my spotlight. Damn cocktease…walkin' around like you wanted it. All of you."

Tossing the blonde's head away, Kurt headed up the stairs and out the second-floor door. Tomko and AJ disappeared as well, getting the hell out of there before they got caught.

Christian screwed his eyes shut, panting to get his breath back and his bearings. He braced one arm along the stairs, supporting his weight, while his other hand rose slowly. His fingers shook horribly as trailed them down his own thigh, cupping himself almost protectively. His sucked in a sharp breath, pulling his hand back sticky with blood.

Jay pursed his lips, swallowing back his tears. He refused to cry, he refused to give those bastards any sort of sick satisfaction than what they'd already gotten from this act. He tried to sit up, a strangled groan escaping him as fire shot up his back. He sagged into the cement, tilting his head back and letting out a long hiss.

He couldn't move.

**xXx**

"Don't be bitter, Jay" Adam called, pulling out his keycard and sliding it through the door panel. He opened up the door, ready to apologize and explain what Matt had told him over the phone, but found no one inside. He looked around carefully, his pet's shoes and wallet still gone.

Realization hit him like a cold bucket of ice, goosebumps cropping up along his arms.

Adam left the door to slam shut, darting for the stairs. He all but shoved open the door, running inside with only one thing one his mind. He had to get to Jay, he had to save his little brother from the fate the others had suffered. He should've answered his phone earlier, he should've listened to Jay and just picked up the fucking thing and talked to Chris. His friend was probably just trying to warn him, trying to keep him from falling into the Anti-Court's trap like all the others had.

Adam took them two at a time, managing to keep his balance and his speed. He all but shot down the flights, heart beating like a hammer in his chest as the possibilities raced through his head. He didn't have to wonder for long, he soon came upon the last stretch of stairs.

He wished he hadn't.

Adam froze at the top of the stairs, eyes widening as his eyes took in the sight.

"Jay…" Adam wheezed, fingers clenching almost painfully before he shouted "Jason!"

Jay was laying out on the steps, jeans laying crumpled on the floor. His bare thighs were stained with a bit of crimson, loose shirt rucked up a bit to show his heaving belly. His head was tipped back against the step, features twisted up in pain and breathing ragged.

Adam pulled himself out of shock, almost falling with his haste. He dropped to his pet's side, his hand coming out to cradle the back of his head. Cerulean eyes cracked open, peering at him like he'd never seen him before.

"A-Addy?"

"Ah, Jay, shit" Adam looked his brother, almost afraid to touch him too much. There was an open gash along his temple, bleeding freely down the side of his face. He started to panic when those eyes he loved started fluttering shut, expression leaking from his face as he started to slip away into unconsciousness.

"No, angel, no" Edge commanded, the note of authority slipping back into his voice "Wake up. Don't close your eyes!"

Jay's eyes snapped open again obediently, some of the alertness returning.

"You've got a concussion, Jay" Adam whispered, grabbing his lover's pants and slipping them back up his legs. He cursed himself for making Jay not wear any underwear, for his pet knew he preferred him not to after so many years. Maybe he would've have more of a chance…more time to get away from this attacker.

Adam picked the lighter man up, easily lifting him into his arms, "Who did this to you, Jason?"

"Angle" Jay spat, struggling to keep himself awake and not let the tears go "Fucking bastard…he caught me by surprise…I was just walking and he hit me…"

Adam decided to get the details later, now was the time to get his pet to the hospital.

* * *

**I have no officially made myself frightened of the following:**

**1. Dimly lit underground parking garages****  
2. Hospitals  
3. Being around vending machines by myself  
****4. Limos driving down the street I'm walking on  
5. Locker rooms****  
6. Being home alone****  
7. Hotel staircases  
8. …hotels in general**

**Fear soon to come? Houses out in the woods where no one can hear you scream.**

**Blame this on the episode of **_**The Sopranos**_** where a woman gets raped in a stairwell. It was actually going to be Jeff at first…but hey, Jay-Jay wanted this one *looks at Christian muse* You are fucked up for choosing this way**

**Christian: Better to get it done and over with****  
Angle: Am I that bad?****  
Christian: *glare* Yes  
****Emono: I agree, I hate you, dude****  
Angle: *pout*  
Emono: *Shoves* you are no longer needed, now leave!**


	12. Chapter 12

**I am so confused. So much shit is happening all at once, I'm completely turned-around and have no idea what order the scenes should go. **

* * *

Evan felt hot, an uncomfortable heat that made him debate whether every move was worth it. He had the thin hospital sheet pulled up around his curled form, sweat slicking his skin. All he had on were these thin boxers, and he was getting tempted to shed them. He found himself panting softly, just trying to keep up with his own body.

Evan's eyes fluttered open, dark doe eyes looking at nothing in particular. He blinked dully, trying to focus. The room was empty, Jake was gone as well as Miz (who hadn't left since he'd gotten here.) He had heard someone earlier talking about other subs getting attacked, going to see them.

When he did focus on the bed beside him, his eyes widened considerably.

"Hey baby" AJ grinned at him, laying out on the bed beside him with his hands folded behind his head.

Evan sucked in a breath, fingers trembling as he gripped the sheet tighter.

AJ shot him a wink, "What's wrong? Miss me already?"

Evan tried to shake his head, but he couldn't move. Fear flowed through him, sealing his mouth shut so he couldn't cry out. He knew Chris was probably just outside the door, watching over him from anyone who would come to hurt him. But…but how did Styles get in here?

"This kinda sucks for you, huh?" AJ wrinkled up his nose, but the grin was still there "Me? I'm loving it. Chris won't even touch you, will he?"

Evan bit his lower lip, tears coming to his eyes.

"You're tainted meat, Evvy" AJ's smile burned into his retinas, a once-friendly gesture now one of malice "The sooner you accept that, the better."

"Your wrong" Evan managed "Chris loves me."

"He loves your _body_" AJ got up, walking toward him with a predatory stare "And I love it too. _Sooo_ much so…I want it again."

Evan curled up tighter, fear trickling into his limbs and paralyzing him. The older man crept closer, easily sliding onto the bed. He ravenette started trembling, the other crawling up on all fours to get to him. The look in his eyes revealed all his true intentions, lips parted to reveal fangs that weren't there before. Though he should have realized this was wrong, Evan couldn't see it past his terror.

"Don't" Evan pleaded, icy fingers curling along the edge of the sheet. It slid down, exposing his fevered flesh to the biting air.

"You love it" AJ accused, digging his fingertips into the vulnerable skin.

"Not again" Evan pleaded, tears streaming down his face "P-Please…don't touch me anymore…"

AJ's hands groped at him, taking rights to his body.

"No!" Evan sobbed softly, clenching his eyes shut.

The rough hands pulled away, leaving him shivering in relief. He struggled to pull himself together, hoping he wouldn't be hurt anymore. There was so much pain, so much in such a short amount of time. His whole world was turned around, and he'd directed his hate inward. He'd let AJ into the house, into his life. Chris had been right, he was always right when it came to these things. Evan had given his virginity to Chris, his life, his heart, his everything. But somehow he'd missed the dark cloud creeping up on him, and for that he was given the ultimate punishment.

He'd tainted what rightfully belonged to his master…himself.

A gentle hand cupped his cheek, a thumb wiping away his tears. Evan's eyes cracked open, peering up at the man now sitting on the bed. It was none other than Chris, the blonde looking down at him as well with something like pity in his eyes.

"Master?" Evan was relieved, lips curling in a smile.

"Hey there, sweetling" Chris brushed his tears away, a little smile on his lips "Why are you crying? It's almost over."

Evan blinked up at him, brow creasing, "W-What's almost over?"

"You are, baby."

Panic gripped his heart, eyes widening, "I'm going to die?"

"Mm-hmm" Chris stroked his hair, contrasting with his bittersweet words "The sooner you get on with it, the sooner I can find myself a new sub."

Tears built up in his doe eyes again, spilling at the thought of his master with someone else. Treating them how he'd been treated, with love and a gentle hand. It made him sick to imagine another in his place, in his house, and in Chris's bed.

"You can't get a new pet! I love you" Evan cried, clinging to the blonde's arm "Y-You can't just replace me! I'm not gonna die."

"Yes, Evan, you are" Chris pried the boy's hands from his arms, getting a small whine at the sudden force "And even if you lived, do you really think that I would want to keep you around?"

Evan's lips moved silently around words he couldn't express, heart breaking in his chest.

"You're ruined, boy" Chris snarled, clenching his hand around the paler boy's throat "You let that bastard have you right there in my house, you betrayed me. I bet you didn't even fight, did you? I bet you begged for it…spread your legs like the good little whore I made you."

Evan gasped for air, tears falling freely now, "M-Master, please don't…"

The man he had come to love so much clamped down on his trachea, breaking blood vessels and cutting off his only way to breath. Evan thrashed, pleading with his master breathlessly as he tried to find an ounce of sympathy in his eyes.

There was none.

Suddenly the pressure let up, those blue eyes now sparkling with a hint of lust, "You deserve to be punished, Evan."

"Why?" Evan keened, rubbing at his sore throat where marks were bloom "I d-didn't mean for it to happen! He forced me! H-He cuffed my hands! I didn't want to betray you, I swear…"

Evan's voice trailed off in a whisper, watching his master unzip his fly and pull his already hard cock out. He shook his head, afraid of this. Any other time, he'd be too happy to please his master, but this was wrong. Something was wrong with this.

Chris's hand shot out, getting a scream from the younger man as he fisted his fingers in raven locks and pulled hard. Evan was forced into a half-sitting position, stuttering out more weak protests. Chris eased up onto the bed, grinning as he stayed there on his knees and yanked his pet closer.

"You deserve this Evan" Chris growled at him, so harshly that Evan started thinking he really did deserve to be hurt like this "Your ass is ruined…but your mouth? All mine. Open up."

Evan gave a whine of protest, trying to pull away and failing. He pushed at his master's muscled thighs, but the older man was stronger than him. The hard, leaking flesh brushed against his cheek, the familiar smell and sensation bringing a small moan from his lips.

"See, baby, you want it" Chris smirked, bringing his pet's mouth closer to his throbbing cock "Now open your mouth…your punishment will be to choke on my cum."

"Please don't, not right now" Evan tried to barter, tears still shining on his cheeks "I hurt so much, Master…later, I promise. Not now."

Evan cried out when Chris's nails bit into his scalp, but it got him to part his lips. The thick girth was shoved between his lips, over his tongue, instantly choking him. He gagged and tried to fight it, but he had no energy. More tears spilled down his face, saliva trailing from the corners of his mouth as he was nearly suffocated by the hard flesh.

Chris was oblivious to his discomfort, thrusting away and moaning.

Evan couldn't breath, he couldn't think…all he knew was that his master was disgusted by him…

…and this was as good as he'd ever get again.

**xXx**

The other masters had left, leaving Mike alone with a napping Evan and his own pet.

Miz sat at Jake's bedside, watching the blonde's chest rise and fall in an even rhythm. He looked quite peaceful, like he was just sleeping, but the stitches along his scalp showed the real story.

"Don't worry" Mike whispered, lacing his fingers with his pet's limp hand "I didn't let them cut too much."

Though Jake wouldn't admit it, sometimes he could be such a vain thing. Mike supposed he had rubbed off on his pet, what with all his primping and his incredibly good taste in clothes.

This sad thought made Mike smile to himself sadly.

Miz sat back in the chair, letting his lover's hand go to reach up and touch at his hair lightly. He'd used such meticulous care re-fixing it after his house match, smirking all the while as he prettied himself up. He'd done this familiar ritual with his pet watching him in that manner that was both protective and affectionate.

And now…his protector was so far away…in a place Mike couldn't follow.

Mike scrubbed a hand through his hair in an almost rebellious act. He smoothed it out, letting it fall across his forehead and into his eyes. Jake had complimented him when he wore it like this, saying he looked seventeen again when he styled it that way.

"When I find the bastard who did this to you, I'll kill him" Mike stated firmly, though there was a quiver in his voice "This isn't fair. You never even saw it coming, did you baby? Bastard got you from behind, like a God-damn coward. My Jake…please…wake up."

Miz raked his teeth over his lower lip, stopping the slight-tremble there. He gazed into his pet's face, mentally begging any god who would listen to have mercy on his love. He scooted closer to the bed, resting his elbows on the plush mattress. He took Jake's hand again, lifting it and rubbing his cheek along the back. He let his eyes flutter shut, ignoring the glittery tears that managed to escape despite his determination to stay strong.

"Do you remember the time you asked me why I'm like this?" Mike asked rhetorically "You asked me why I would want a bigger sub, someone who could physically take me on. I'm sorry I got so defensive, but when you said you thought I needed safety…I just snapped. I said horrible things, but you forgave me. You never mentioned it again, and I was so grateful."

Mike sucked in a shaky breath, his whole Miz-façade in tatters. Every shred of cockiness and strength was now gone, leaving him much more vulnerable than he would've liked. He decided to let it out, to release his hidden skeleton now rather than keep it to himself for another moment.

"I don't want to sound pathetic, but that's kind of what it is."

If he let it out now, it'd be easier later on when Jake could respond.

"You were right that day, I do need safety" Mike began, sorrow lacing in his words "It's the one thing I've never had, not even when I was little. When I was young…when I was born…I wasn't wanted. My mom hated me from the start, saying I ruined her figure. I was always afraid to ask for anything, I used to go two days at a time without eating just so she wouldn't get coarse with me. She constantly screamed at me about how the family didn't have any money because of me, but I learned to block it out. My dad kind of just ignored me for the first few years…then he got laid off and started drinking."

Mike's old Ohio accent started slipping in, just enough to be noticeable if anyone were around, "I wasn't even eight yet when I stopped asking for hugs, to be picked up and kissed. I started wakin' myself up and goin' to school…no one else cared. When I crossed my daddy's path, he would smack me around without an ounce of hesitation. He used to laugh when I started crying, so I stopped. Even when I grew up, when I started going to high school, he would hit me."

Mike sniffled, digging his free hand into his eyes, "Hell, he hit me harder! He started leaving these ugly marks…the few girlfriends I bothered with thought I was a thug or something. I tried to get out of there, I ran away for a week before I had to come back. The police found me; my best friend had filed a report. God, if only he'd known…he wouldn't of done that…"

Miz clamped down on his lower lip again, then managed to continue, "The moment I stepped into the house, the moment the policeman couldn't see me anymore, my daddy floored me. He dislocated my jaw, and later that day I had to walk myself to the clinic and back. So I started to get really involved in school, taking up every activity I could to keep me away from home. God, it got really bad there towards the end, every day he'd take a swing at me. Some days I just let him hit me, other days I ran and hid in my room.

Mike rubbed cheek along the back of his pet's hand again, taking the strength to go on, "But…one day, when I eighteen, my room wasn't enough. I woke up to him screaming at me, waving my acceptance letter to Miami University around. He was pissed, said I thought I was so much God-damn better than him. He yanked me out of bed, so I started kicking and screaming. H-He got me down onto my knees; he bent me over my own bed."

Ice blue eyes fluttered open, "I tried every trick I knew, but he was too strong. He leaned over me…God, he stank of whiskey. I saw my mom there in the doorway, just _watching_ with this cold look in her eye. I begged her to make him stop, but she didn't do anything. She just…stood there…even when he pushed down my boxers…"

Mike got lost for a moment, grief flooding his face.

"He raped me" Mike admitted, voice cracking "I screamed and cried…but he did it anyway."

He sniffled, palming his tears away.

"That's the night I realized I was alone in this world, and that no one was going to take care of me" Miz stated, that hard edge back in his eyes "A part of me was terrified, and I covered that up with my new creation: 'The Miz'. When I was him, I was loud and obnoxious and arrogant as hell. No one fucked with me, but they hated me. I was ok with the hate, I thought it would keep me safe. But there's always been something inside of me…the 'Mike' in me, I guess…that's wanted someone to trust. Someone who would keep me safe, who was strong and loved me…someone I could lean on for strength when everything got to be too much."

Mike gazed down at his pet fondly, "I had almost given that up when I first saw you, young but still so big. You were fierce as hell…and I wanted that as my own. I wanted you to be my strength when I couldn't find it in me, when being 'The Miz' wasn't enough. At the end of the day, I had _you_…and that was enough for me. You don't know how much I've needed you these past few years…how much you've grounded me."

Miz dropped a kiss on the blonde's limp hand, "I would've never gotten this far without you."

He was startled by a gasping, "M-Master, please don't…"

Evan had been making soft noises in the corner for some time now, but Mike had been chalking it up to fever. A nurse came in every half hour to check his condition, take his vitals and all that. Since they had been too afraid to hook him up, she was very punctual. The younger man was releasing harsher sounds now; rough, gasping sobs that shook his frame. He'd kicked off his sheet, flesh slick with sweat and prickled from the cool air that tried to soothe it.

Mike gave his lover's hand a last kiss, then stood. He walked across the room, observing the small ravenette in his own personal hell. He grabbed a water bottle out of the small fridge in one of the cabinet (they used to keep samples, but someone had stored a few bottles in there) and a small towel. He wet the soft material, hoping it would help. He cursed the bastards who had done this to them all, and he knew he'd be cursing them for years to come.

Miz sat down on the bed, stroking a hand along the back of the younger man's neck. Evan's breath was stuttering horribly, lips parting and closing like that of a fish. He looked as if he were being strangled, violent trembles racking him.

"Wake up, Ev" Miz brushed back the sweat-dampened raven tresses, cupping his head firmly in an attempt to rouse him "Come on, now. Let the dream go…don't let the fever have you. Fight it."

**xXx**

Evan's eyes fluttered open, tears dripping down from them to show his agony. He whimpered, stretching out his aching body. He reached for his throat, rubbing at it to relieve the phantom pressure. He looked around blearily, barely able to raise his head.

AJ was gone…Chris was gone…

"Evan?"

Evan found Miz sitting on his bed, gazing at him in concern. The older man was pushing his hair our of his eyes, checking his basic temperature. The too-hot hand pulled away, replaced with a cool cloth. He gave a soft moan, it eased the burn that he'd been simmering in for hours.

"Am I…still in the hospital?" Evan rasped.

"Yeah" Miz replied, lightly dabbing at the paler man's neck and chest.

Evan wet his lips, finding them dry, "Where's my master?"

"He's downstairs, some of the others were attacked too" Mike replied, helping the boy sit up a bit "Here."

Evan sipped at the bottle offered to him, the water soothing his throat and sending a pleasant cool through his body. He thought back to his dream…his reality? It had seemed so real, he could still feel Chris's fingers around his neck…AJ's weight baring down on him…

"Was my master up here?" Evan inquired, almost not wanting to hear the answer "Was he with me? W-Was I…ever alone?"

Miz smiled down at him indulgently, "I've been here the whole time. And as for Chris, he hasn't left your side since you got here…this is the first time."

Evan tilted his head, "Are there any marks on my neck?"

The brunette's brow creased, "Why would-?"

"Humor me" Evan managed to grit out.

Mike checked the young man's neck thoroughly, "There are no new marks."

Evan sighed in relief, almost collapsing back into the mattress before falling asleep.

**xXx**

Shawn stood outside the hospital, waiting for his friend to show up. His heart told him to get inside and be with his pet, but his mind told him he needed to do this. The man showed in the form of a cab, looking pissed as he emerged from the car and strode toward him.

"Is he okay?" Joey asked, clapping the hand that was offered to him.

"He's alive" Shawn gave the younger man a grateful smile, patting his shoulder as well in a brief hug "He's real hurt. I haven't seen him awake yet."

"I'm sorry this shit went down" Joey pulled away, clenching his fists "Whattya want me to do? You know I'll do anything for JoMo."

Shawn nodded, observing the bigger man. A sharp scar trailed down his nose, cutting into his cheek. He was still so thick, very formidable. HBK trusted this man with this. Hell, he had trusted Mercury as John's tag-team partner, why should he doubt him now?"

"I need you to use your connections and find Bradshaw."

Fire danced in the younger man's eyes, "John Layfield did this?"

"Yeah" Shawn couldn't stop the scowl from twisting his lips "Drugged Johnny, raped him…left him out in the middle of God-knows where to get passed around like meat."

"You want him dead?" Joey growled, snatching his phone out of his pocket "One call and he's gone."

"No, no" Shawn's scowl twisted up into a cruel smirk "I want that pleasure all for myself. I just need you to find me where he is, where he's going."

The former WWE star nodded, "I'll do what I can."

"And I need you to stick around, maybe stay outside our boys' room?" Shawn asked, the other nodded "Just keep the trash out, ya know? And who knows…maybe we can use you to track down the others."

Joey was confused by this, "Others?"

Shawn sighed, wishing it wasn't like this.

"Joey…you didn't think John was the only one was hurt, do you?"

"Tell me."

* * *

**I love Joey Mercury, I really do. The poor guy and…his cocaine. What's with these wrestlers and cocaine? First Joey, then Jeffy…**


	13. Chapter 13

The nurse -Dahlia- taking care of John Morrison tended to him with a gentle hand, being very careful with the young man. Her heart ached in pity for the boy, and he reminded her much of her own son. The middle-age woman was kind to him, speaking softly, trying to sooth him.

John lay out on the hospital bed, staring off at the wall of the ICU. He was one of the few in there, and he was glad for the privacy. He ran his tongue over his teeth, tasting mint. They had let him brush out his mouth, even shower out all the grime and cud from his hair and skin. He had washed away every bit of trace evidence on and in his body. They had wanted to file a report of rape and assault, collect samples. But they got the word from the higher-ups (thanks to certain members of the Court) that no rape kit would be run on him or any of the others that came in this night.

John was getting stitches right now. The mess had been cleaned away, and he had been shocked to find a long gash underneath all the dirt and blood. He had been told it was made by a knife, the width of the wound testament to that. It started at the middle of his right thigh, extending all the way up his body in a ragged line. It went up his hip, abs, tearing a raw path up his pectoral and jaw, and finally ending mid-cheek.

John didn't know this, he hadn't seen a mirror and no one had told him it was going to leave a horrible scar.

John laid very still, body aching as he waited for the painkillers to kick in. He kept his left arm folded and laying limp over his head, the other stretched out of the way of the nurse. She was stitching him up, his thigh already cleaned and closed. Dahlia was now at his abdomen, being careful as she sewed up that particular section of the gash.

The door opened up, Shawn stepped inside and looking about the room. He found his lover, letting the door fall shut behind him. He approached quietly, looking his pet over grimly. He hated that his boy had been hurt like this, he hated that he'd let something like this happen under his watch. If his GPS hadn't fucked up that day, if he'd just kept John with him the whole time…if he'd just taken Morrison shopping when he'd wanted…

"Johnny" Shawn sighed, stepping up to the bed.

John glanced at him, a shameful flush on his cheeks.

"What happened, sweetheart?" Shawn pulled up a chair, sitting down beside his pet "I want to hear it from you."

John wet his lips, trying to ease his breath, "He drugged me…I don't remember a lot of it."

"Just tell me" Shawn encouraged, eyes trailing to the scrub pants that hung low on his lover's hips. John was covered in blossoming bruises, ones that seemed to only grow darker by the hour.

"It was Layfield…he raped me" John closed his eyes briefly, tears gathering in them "He got me into the limo, he got me with a good dose of chloroform. The bastard had no mercy on me, Master. He…he took what he wanted, and then I breathed in some more of that crap. I kind of remember the limo stopping…someone pulled me out by my hair…asking Bradshaw if he wanted me dead or alive…"

John stopped, sucking in a sharp breath, "Then it's just a blur of men."

Shawn reached out, brushing his fingers over his lover's raven hair. He noted that they had to cut a bit of it because of how it had matted a bit by the rough treatment, about two inches or so. His poor, vain pet…he had gone through hell in every sense of the word. He hated himself for letting this happen. This boy was his life, what his whole world revolved around. He had treasured Morrison since he was twenty, unable to legally drink when they met. He had coddled him, wanting to keep him from harm and from this industry's harshest blows.

Dahlia looked up from her work, looking between them briefly but didn't say a word.

"I'm going to get you the best help this place has to offer" Shawn stated firmly.

"Shawn" John met his eyes, misery in them "Can you please just…_go_?"

The Showstopper was surprised at this.

"_Please_" John lowered his forearm, covering his eyes with it "I-I can't even look at you without feeling guilty. They did horrible shit to me, things I-I can't…oh God…they…"

//They ruined me// John couldn't quite get the words out, but they were burned into his mind //They ripped me apart and stained me.//

"Johnny, don't say that" Shawn stood up, peering at his pet curiously "Don't feel guilty. You have no reason to, none of it was your fault."

"Then why does it feel like it?" tears trailed down the boy's face.

"It shouldn't" Shawn cooed "It's not."

"Can you just give me some time, Shawnie?" John whispered, unsure how long he'd be able to hold himself together "I don't feel at my best…I just need to calm down…"

Shawn observed the tremble in his pet's fingers, his adrenaline was probably still flowing. Not to mention, his body was probably still half in shock from the attack. He nodded, briefly touching his pet's forearm in a gesture of affection.

"We have a room up a few floors" Shawn told him "When they're done with you here, they're going to take you up there. The others are there."

"The others?" John lifted his forearm briefly, teary eyes looking up at his master questioningly.

"Some of the other subs were attacked too, sweetheart" Shawn replied honestly "Jake hasn't woken up…little Bourne is sick…we can't find Brooks or Ted."

This shocked John, others had been hurt like him? Phil just _gone_? To hear the head sub of their family was taken, who knows what happening to him.

"Who did this?" Morrison asked, unable to contain himself.

Shawn glanced at the nurse, then back at his pet, "Later."

John nodded slightly, resting his forearm back over his eyes.

Once Shawn had left, John's split lower lip started to tremble.

"Let it out, baby" Dahlia whispered.

John began to sob, releasing his grief.

**xXxXxXx**

Once Morrison was done, he was wheeled up to the reserved room.

Minutes later, Jeff Hardy was brought in with his brother. Matt stood off to the side as the nurses swarmed over Jeff, immediately stripping off his clothes and cleaning up the blood. He was eased down on his belly on one of the ICU beds, they were very soft-handed with him as he helped him out. Once one of the plump raven-haired nurses cleaned and wrapped his wrists, he was able to fold his arms beneath his head.

Two nurses started examining the gashes along his back and thighs, being very careful. They seemed to have been informed by the situation, because they asked Matt if it was okay if they started stitching the younger Hardy up. Matt nodded, the women prepared the needles.

Matt came over, leaning against the wall beside the bed to gave down at his brother. Jeff looked up at him briefly, getting a soft stroke along his hair.

A nurse with 'Dahlia' printed on her nametag entered, frowning, "We've got another one."

One of the smaller nurses frowned, "Is he roughed up too badly?"

"He's…better than the others" Dahlia replied with a certain hesitance in her voice.

Matt watched in horror as a nurse brought in a stretcher with a groaning Christian laid out on it, Adam following close behind. They found each other's eyes, horror in them.

"Be careful" the nurse slowly urged Jay off the stretcher, easing him onto the bed. She saw the blood staining his jeans, a flush coming to her cheeks. His face was streaked with crimson as well, a gash along his temple. He seemed a bit out of it, blinking rapidly.

"What happened?" Matt stood beside Adam, the nurse starting to wipe the sticky blood from the younger blonde's face.

"He was attacked in a stairwell" Edge hissed in reply "Bastard Angle bashed his head against the railing before taking what he wanted."

Matt winced, the blonde looking back to Jeff, "What happened to Jeff?"

"Raven" Matt growled lowly "He got Jeff alone and whipped the fuck out of him. Then…"

Edge nodded, knowing just what could've happened to their brothers.

The door opened, revealing Undertaker in a rage. He walked in, looking between the beds with a hard set to his jaw.

"Both of them?"

Matt nodded, "Both, Master 'Taker."

Mark walked over to Jeff's bed, letting his knuckles brush over the boy's cheek. Jeff sighed, closing his eyes at the almost fatherly touch. The Deadman stepped aside for the nurse, coming up to Jay next. He observed him, getting only a dull look in response.

"Do you have something to keep him awake?" Mark rumbled at one of the nurses. She nodded, immediately gathering up some things for the proper IV. The older man touched the blonde's shoulder, getting a wince.

"Did he rough you up, Jason?"

"Like an animal" Jay spat, cringing again when the nurse cleaned the cut on his head "Am I…going to need stitches?"

"Yes" she replied, smiling sympathetically "Just a few."

Mark looked to the head nurse, "Make sure they're taken to my reserved room."

"With the others" Dahlia nodded, a certain glint in her eyes "Of course, Master 'Taker."

Matt raised a brow at this, but Adam wasn't surprised that their leader had friends all over.

The blonde sat on the other side of his brother, slowly running a hand up his back and getting a soft sigh, "I'm sorry I left you all alone…this is all my fault."

"You didn't know, Addy" Jay whispered, grateful when his master laced a hand in his. He squeezed it through the pain, making it a bit easier.

"I should've listened to you" Adam hated himself for it "I should've answered my damn phone earlier."

The nurse finished up the stitches, covering them in a thin bandage. Jay immediately curled into his master's side, resting his head on his shoulder.

"I didn't cry" he whispered.

This hurt Adam more than all else, that his pet thought he had to be strong through this. He carded his hand through Jay's short blonde hair, making sure to keep his touch gentle.

"It's ok, little brother" Edges rested his cheek against the soft tresses "I'll make him pay for this. I swear."

**xXxXxXx**

Cody helped his master change into his ring gear in a rush, pouring the baby oil on his hands and kneeling behind his master. He coated the backs of legs, his thighs, making sure to get every inch. Randy swiped down his arms, the silvery sheen left in his palm's wake. His muscles flexed with his movement, showing his strength.

Cody stepped back, grabbing a towel and wiping off his hands. He looked his master over, lips quirking up in a smile.

"You look great."

Randy flashed his pet a weak smile, "Thanks."

Cody observed the slight ticking in the other's jaw, knowing him so well after all this time together, "Something's troubling you."

It wasn't a question, so Randy didn't answer. Cody stepped closer, smiling a little as he placed a hand on his master's shoulder.

"Tell me?"

"I just…" Randy briefly chewed the side of his lower lip "This whole thing, all the subs being hurt…it puts me on edge. I don't want you out there with me tonight, but I can't let you to of my sight."

Cody's tail swayed softly behind him, happy that his love was so concerned for him, "I'll be fine out there."

"You're everything to me, Codes" Randy circled an arm around the smaller man's waist, touching his cheek with the other "I don't know what I'd do if you were hurt. If they so much as lay a hand on you, I'll cut it off. I can't stand the though of someone like Batista or JBL touching you."

"I know, Randy" Cody replied in a low voice, blanketing the hand on his face "But nothing can happen to me while you're there. I promise to stay out of the way, I won't even get in the cage. I'll just watch…and cheer for you."

Randy's smile was less strained this time, stealing a chaste kiss, "That's my sweet boy."

He took another kiss, this one longer and much slower. He tasted his pet completely, acting like he hadn't already memorized the clean taste of him.

A tech knocked on the door, "They need you out there in five, Mr. Orton."

"I'm coming" Randy called, pulling away from his pet with a pang of regret "I wish we didn't have to do this tonight."

"Half the superstars can't or didn't show up, what do you expect?" Cody teased, grabbing his military cap and pulling it over his ears "Now let's get out there and give them a show."Randy actually laughed at this, briefly forgetting all the pain and torment that had happened in the past 48 hours. An attack was made on the Court, his best friends in the world were suffering, their subs were almost all in the hospital…but looking into Cody's smiling face somehow made it all ok. He could shove his grief and anger aside…if only for the next half hour. He knew the moment this was over they'd have to go back to the hospital, both to track down the two missing subs and the bastards who had done this to them all.

Randy also pushed aside the ominous feeling building in his belly, which was a mistake.

* * *

**Hey guys, sorry I haven't posted in two weeks. Last week I couldn't get the website to work (as I complained to KissingRain, the poor thing takes my frustration like a trooper).**


	14. Chapter 14

**Whew *sighs, wipes forehead* There's a lot to write to this story since all the shit happens at one time! Well, here's Ted and Punkers…oh, and I'm going to try very hard to describe how Ted is bound up, but it might be a little difficult. I haven't done anything this elaborate since my anime days, so I'll just do my best. If you get confused, just ask (if you think me breaking it down to you in non-story mode will help.)**

* * *

Ted slowly pulled himself out of unconsciousness, groaned weakly as he tried to wake up. His feline instincts were screaming at him about danger, for the last thing he remembered was just a few seconds of staring at a ceiling. Not a ceiling really…a trunk? Before that, he recalled fighting someone.

"_You can't fight me now, Teddy-boy, so stop trying."_

Batista!

Ted cracked his eyes open, the world slowly coming into focus. The dark veil was lifted from his mind, giving him room to think and stretch out his thoughts. But when eh tried to physically stretch, he found himself caught in pace. This shocked his system, and he managed to open his eyes to find out where he was.

The first thing he saw was an expanse of brick red sheets, he was on a bed. John's dog tags were still around his neck, dangling down to brush across the dark linen. He realized very quickly this was the only thing he had on, for cold air was chilling every inch of his bare flesh. He opened his mouth to call out, but found out he couldn't. An unyielding ball gag kept his jaw locked, the thick leather straps biting sharply into the sides of his mouth.

Ted took a deep breath, composing himself enough to realize how he was he was bound.

Ted flexed his neck as much as he could, there was a collar around his neck. He was up on his knees, held there by bondage gear instead of by human hands. Cuffs were strapped along his calves, a spreader bar hooked between them to keep his legs parted. Though he couldn't see them, matching cuffs were latched along his wrists as well and pulled them tight into the dip of his lower back. The angle hurt, but it was effective. A strong strap linked the spreader bar and his wrists, keeping him on his knees. But it was a leash connecting the collar and the headboard that kept his upper body hovering over the bed. His tail brushed against his legs, it was thankfully free.

After a few minutes of struggling and wriggling, he was still held immobile and now out of breath.

Panic laced into his system, kicking his heartbeat up a few notches. He was held prisoner on a bed…in a room he'd never seen before. It was dark except for the small lamp glowing in the corner. It gave just enough golden-red light for him to know this was a bedroom, and his eyes quickly adjusted. Batista had taken him from the hospital, from his master, and had the balls to chain him up. That bastard would rue this day, John would make sure of it.

The door creaked, opening to reveal his kidnapper. Dave strolled in gradually, eyeing his bound prize with a hungry desire. The leather against his tan skin was positively delicious, keeping him in place. Sweats hung low on The Animal's hips, thickly muscled chest exposed. He stalked over to the bed, bare feet making no sound against the carpet. Ted's ears pinned back as he approached, tail flicking sharply.

He stood beside the mattress, reaching out and running his hand along the sheet just below the boy's chest.

"You like this? They suit your rich taste, kitty?" Dave taunted, raising his hand enough to brush across the firm chest bared to him "Six hundred count should pacify you just fine."

Ted lifted his head as much as he could, glaring at the older man. He put up a good face, but that vulnerable part of him was terrified. The part of him who'd suffered the most from his tortuous past, the part that would never fully heal. He hadn't felt real fear in years, and he could feel terror building up in his belly.

"The others just want a fuck or revenge, but I'm different."

Ted rolled his eyes, //Oh yeah, I bet you say that to all the guys you capture.//

"Oh, I'm going to fuck you, make no mistake" Dave grinned, a dark glint in his eyes "I'm going to give you a taste of what I have to offer, Teddy."

Ted cringed when those rough knuckles brushed across his cheek, flinching away.

"I realized a while back that I wouldn't be satisfied with just one fuck" Dave started petting along the boy's spine, taking too much pleasure in the disgust on the blonde's face "Oh no. I want more than one time…I want as much as I fucking please."

Ted had an idea where this was going, and he didn't like it.

"You may have noticed that I have a bit of a kink" Dave let his fingers venture down further, curling them around the flexible length of the boy's tail "I've never seen anything so…"

He trailed off, resisting the urge to fuck his bound prize right then.

"I'm going to make you an offer" Dave growled, grabbing him roughly by the base of his tail to get a yelp "You tell Cena it's over, done with. Then you come and be mine."

//Get serious// Ted scoffed behind the gag, giving the man a filthy look.

"I'm not offering money or kindness, kitty, I just want you all for myself" Batista made clear "And you're going to give it to me, or I'm going to make your life pretty God-damn miserable. Either I get you…or no one else does."

Ted couldn't spit in his face, but he _really_ wanted to.

"So choose it, kitty" Dave unhooked one side of ball gag, easing it out just enough for the other to speak "Either be mine, or loose a lot more than your precious Cena."

Ted flexed his jaw, then smirked up at the man, "Fuck you. I'd never be yours, not even if you _did_ pay me! You're less than half the man John is, and you're just fucking jealous!"

Ted couldn't say anymore, though he had a few more choice words he'd have liked to get out. The ball gag was shoved back into his mouth, locking his jaw tight before it was strapped back. He could feel his lips ready to give way under the pressure, his cheeks stinging.

"Seems like I've got some convincing to do" Dave stepped back, shucking off his pants. Ted braced himself as best he could, though he still clenched his eyes shut when the larger man knelt on the bed behind him. Those wide-palmed hands curled around his hips, the slick head of his lengthy cock brushing across his entrance.

The first thrust tore through him, and he screamed. It felt like he was being split in two! But then again, before John, this was how sex always felt. He kept his eyes closed, losing himself inside his mind. Trees, forest, thinking of anything else. What had it been in that one movie with Brad Pitt? The one where that guy was in horrible pain?

_I'm going to my cave. I'm going to my cave and find my power animal…_

John's dog tags jingled faintly as they scraped across the sheet beneath him. But Ted didn't give in, he never would.

No man would break him again.

//John will come for me// Ted kept repeating to himself, body rocking with the restraints at each harsh movement //He'll always come for me.//

**xXxXxXx**

"Shit…"

The sound of his own voice breaking the silence scared him so badly he jerked awake, olive eyes opening to darkness. He started sucking in breath like he couldn't get enough, lungs seemingly starved with the sudden burst of panic. He looked around wildly, things coming into focus much slower than he'd have liked. Shadows inside the darkness danced circles around his head, tricking his eyes. Were those claws? Was it a face? Was it someone watching him?

Phil took quick stock, realizing he was laying out on a mattress from the soft, yielding surface beneath him. The air was chilly, goosebumps already broke out along his skin. From the constriction around his legs and waist, he was only wearing his wrestling gear. He gathered his strength, wincing when a shadow danced past him.

Phil sat up, swatting at what he thought was something by his head. There was nothing, but the metallic clanking sound freaked him out. He shook his wrist again, the sound coming again. There was a weight on both his wrists, he rubbing his right over his left and felt metal. Thick metal, smooth, starting at the top of his wrist and ending five inches down his forearm. The length of them showed they weren't handcuffs, even without the use of his eyes. He kept feeling along, using his fingertips, and found chains attached to the cuffs

The ravenette slowly eased up onto his knees, following the long chain up until his hands hit a wall. He gave a sound of distress, running his palms along the wall and identifying it as cement. Two holes were cut in the wall, just shorter together than the length of his arm span. The chains disappeared into these holes, but when he tugged nothing happened.

That's why he was so cold, concrete was an insulator…not a conductor. It kept heat out, and it sapped his own body warmth.

His eyes were starting to adjust, he saw that the mattress beneath him was bare but thick. No blankets, nothing to protect him. He crawled across the mattress, gasping when he felt along the floor and found it to be freezing concrete. If he stayed off the bed for too long, he was afraid all that kept him alive would be sapped away.

"Help!" Phil called, voice hoarse before he cleared his throat and tried again "Hello!? Someone? Anyone?! Help!"

Phil sat back on the mattress, wrapping his arms around himself. The last thing he recalled was Kane dragging him kicking and screaming up the ramp like a child. He had been pissed, humiliated, and it had all just happened off-script. Once they'd gotten back stage, he had started demanding a reason, but was cut off by something solid striking his head.

He felt along the back of his neck, wincing at the tenderness of the whole area.

"Mark?!" Phil shouted, frustration tearing up his eyes as his voice cracked pathetically "…Master…"

Phil prayed someone heard him, prayed that anyone was listening.

Oh, _someone_ was listening.

**xXxXxXx**

At the arena, Hunter had just finished getting dressed for is match when he got the phone call. He had managed to collect a blood sample of Orton's bitch where he had gotten busted in the mouth by accident during a match. JBL had managed to track down a doctor who specialized in those infected with feline mutation, and with a small price the man had run the bloodwork. Hunter just wanted to be sure the bitch was clean, there was no way he was handling Orton's slut if he was infected. Who knows what those 'masters' did with their pets? What if they passed them around?

That, and Hunter had this vague feeling that something was off about the boy.

Hunter snatched up his cell, answering it, "Hello?"

"_Yes, this is Dr. Collins. Is this Hunter?_"

"Yeah" Hunter replied.

"_Mr. Layfield called me about some very unique bloodwork that needed to be done_" the sound of shuffling papers echoed through the line "_I ran it, and I found some anomalies…_"

"What's that mean, Doc? I got five minutes, tops."

"_Alright_" the man sighed "_The subject of this blood, the young male…he's pregnant._"

"He's _what_?!" Hunter barked into the phone, eyes widening comically.

"_He's pregnant, Hunter._"

The blonde sputtered a bit, then managed to put words together, "Men don't get _pregnant_."

"_Sir, I've spent entire life studying people with this particular genetic mutation_" Dr. Collins sounded a bit indignant "_Both genders can become pregnant if exposed to unprotected sex at the right time._"

First, disgust and disappointment came over Hunter. He couldn't fuck the bitch if he wasn't pregnant, that was just too sick for him. The plan of locking Orton in the cage and stealing Cody out of there wasn't going down tonight, no way.

Then the anger came. How _dare_ Randy fucking ruin his plans like that?! Knocking the damn boy up…it infuriated him! It ruined his plans, and now he knew he'd never get the thrill of dominating the Rhodes boy. Every other one of the other guys got what they fucking wanted out of the subs, why the hell should he get short-changed at the end?!

//Well, there is something else you can do…//

The small voice got around his conscious, suggesting something else. Something devious, something cruel.

//It'll break Orton and his bitch forever.//

If Hunter wasn't getting his rock off tonight, then everyone was going to suffer.

"Hey Doc, I've got a question for ya…" Hunter's lips quirked up in a grin "How delicate would this condition be?"

* * *

**The doctor? He's Misha Collins without actually being Misha Collins. He's Misha if Misha was a doctor that specialized in feline genetics. Remember him, and go look up his picture so you've got an idea what he looks like.**

**If you get squicky, please brace yourself. The next chapter is intense! The next few chapters are intense, actually.**


	15. Chapter 15

**Hey readers, I've got a question: If I did a **_**Marine 2**_** re-write with Cody in it instead of Robin, would you read it? Just a thought I'm seriously having. I'm thinking it will be my next big project after this is done.**

**Also, the match here at the end? I got the idea from the Hell in a Cell match with DX vs. Legacy. Cody looked so vulnerable…I couldn't help but re-create it.**

* * *

_At the arena…_

Cody followed his master down the ramp, _Voices_ ringing loudly around them. Hunter was already in the ring, staring them down. The cell hung in the air menacingly, ready to contain the violence within it's unforgiving metal walls. Once they reached the ring, Randy paused and put an arm around his waist. He leant in, whispering very briefly.

"Stay out of the cage."

Cody nodded, promising. He watched the Viper go up the stairs, glaring at Hunter like he was going to strike at any second. Cody took his place on the side of the ring the announcers were at, and once the cage started coming down he stepped back enough to let it settle between him and the actual ring. A certain weight settled in his heart at the action, but he wouldn't disobey his master by staying inside. It was too dangerous, he knew this.

The crowd was deafening, screaming at the sight of the cage and the promise of violence. Once the cage had touched the floor, two refs came to the door. One with wavy blonde hair stepped inside, the other brandished the chain and lock that sealed the cage shut. The blonde hair looked to Cody, brow creased, before he told his colleague not to do it.

When asked why, the blonde merely stated that with a third part involved it was usually custom to keep just the chain on for show. So the other shrugged and did so, wrapping the chain between the links of the door and the cage. He let the lock keep them together, but he didn't close it.

The bell was rung, the fight started.

Cody's eyes danced between the two wrestlers, their intensity skyrocketing. Randy was quick and precise with his movements, contrasting with Hunter's power-moves. The fans screamed for them at the top of their lungs, loving the fight. It only took the brunette a few minutes to realize that Hunter wasn't pulling his punches, and his master realized that too when he got a sucker punch to the mouth.

Randy stared at the blonde in shock, running his fingers over his mouth to find blood slicking them. A few more real hits and a malicious laugh from Hunter was all it took for Randy to catch the game (no pun intended), so he started throwing real punches too. The fight got hella-real after that, both giving it all they had to take the other down.

Cody hissed as the intensity went up, the two of them took it up to the next level. The ropes, the turnbuckles, it was all used to inflict pain. They were both stalwart men, both able to handle themselves, and both dead-set on winning this match. What Hunter was fighting so hard for, Cody had no idea, but he knew it couldn't be good.

**xXxXxXx**

_At the hospital…_

The room was big enough to accommodate all the subs, thank goodness. Morrison was brought in there first, still kind of woozy on morphine. He was given the bed farthest from the door on the right, on the other side of an unconscious Jake. He managed to get in the bed by himself, but he had to be extra careful because of his stitches. There were so many, and any sharp movements would tear the gash wide open.

Miz looked moments too long at his ex-tag team partner, jaw falling open at his appearance. He'd never seen _the_ John Morrison look so broken, it was…different.

John noticed this, croaking out, "What?"

Mike smiled gently, shaking his head, "Nothing."

John frowned, settling out on the bed. He sighed when he finally got comfortable, eyes fluttering shut. Shawn came in soon after, counting the beds. There were five of them, two extra now. The room was very large, it would fit them all comfortable for however long their boys needed to stay.

Just as John was starting to doze off, the door opened and Adam appeared with his arm around his pet's waist. Jay was led over to the bed between Morrison and Evan, set down on it very carefully. A nurse came in, a ready syringe kit in her hands.

"I have what you requested, Mr. Copeland" the nurse sat next to Jay on the bed, opened up the box and getting out the orange swipe of disinfectant "This will help you stay awake. Roll up your sleeve."

Jay sighed in mild annoyance, but slowly pulled up the long plaid sleeve. She filled up her syringe with a mildly golden looking liquid, giving him a look of sympathy before jabbing it into his arm. Jay gave a little unmanly squeak, staying frozen until it popped out of skin. She cleaned it again, then applied a plan band-aid over the puncture.

"There you go" she looked to Adam, who was standing in front of them watching "Some coffee would help to."

Adam reached out and cupped his pet's unharmed cheek, looking into his eyes, "You think you can swallow down some coffee, angel?"

Jay nodded slightly, "Yeah. Can you bring me back something to eat too?"

Adam gave him a look, the smaller blonde huffed, "Getting raped doesn't mean I'm not still fucking starving."

"Alright" Adam held up his hands in surrender, his pet was always a determined thing. If he was hungry, he sure as hell wasn't going to let Angle being a jackass get in the way of that. And Adam wasn't stupid, he knew how his brother ticked. This was a dissociation technique, focusing on his growling stomach rather than the fact that he'd been violated.

For now, he'd play along.

Jay watched his master and the nurse leave, glad that they weren't walking on eggshells around him. No sooner were they gone did the door open again, two nurses with a stretcher coming in. On it was Jeff, he looked mildly annoyed at the face that he needed help. But help them they did, easing him on the bed across the room from Evan. Jeff immediately settled with his head at the opposite end of the bed, folding his arms under a pillow and resting his chin on it. The nurses, deciding it was just best to let him do whatever, left him to it.

Jay noted that Jake was there in the corner, fast asleep (or so he thought) with Miz beside him. Evan was across from him, Morrison behind him.

"What the fuck happened?" Jay gritted out, getting up and walking over to sit next to Evan on his bed. The ravenette was flushed all over, all but writhing beneath the sheet that covered him.

Evan's eyes fluttered open, finding the blonde there, "Jay?"

"Hey Ev" Jay softened his tone, touching his hot cheek with the back of his hand "What happened to you?"

Miz got up, walking over to them, "Do you not know?"

"Hey dickhead" Morrison growled "Ya know where I've been for the past dozen hours? In a skank ally getting felt up by bikers. Wanna cut us some fucking slack?"

Miz, used to his ex-partner's mood swings, kept his tone calm, "I know where you've been, Mor. All this is happening a bit too fast for some of us to keep up."

John narrowed his eyes at the other, but gave in when he looked toward Evan, "Is the kid ok?"

"You guys know AJ Styles?"

Christian's eyes widened, "Are you saying…?"

Miz nodded, "Styles raped Evan yesterday, left him in Chris's house for him to find. And apparently he injected him with some kind of virus."

Jeff's eyebrows raised at this, "Is it contagious?"

Miz shook his head, "No, it's transferred by blood only."

Jay looked down at the boy, heart aching, "I can't believe they got Evan too."

He then looked back to the master, seeing the dark circles under his eyes.

"What happened to Jake?"

Miz told them about Jake being attacked, about how he needed to wake up soon. Then, one by one, the others subs told what they'd gone through as well. John was in near-tears as he tried to explain what had happened to him, about JBL drugging him and taking what he wanted. The men who had passed him around, how he had just gotten away in time.

Jeff told his story as well, explaining his slight knife phobia and how Raven had used this against him.

Jay explained his attack while rubbing lightly as his bandaged temple.

"But mine was done so fast…" Jay looked at all his friends, feeling guilty.

"That doesn't make it less cruel" Jeff stated firmly, crooking his finger at the other "Come 'ere, Jay."

The blonde stood, walking over to his best friend's bed. He knelt down on the floor next to him, the violet-haired man propping himself up on his elbow to look at him properly. He reached out, cupping the side of his neck in an affectionate gesture."You think you're gonna be ok?" Jeff asked tentatively "I know you're strong, but…" Jeff lowered his voice, glancing at Evan briefly "I'm afraid some of us aren't."

"Don't say that" Jay tisked, reaching out and tucking back a lock of the other's lavender dyed bangs "We're all going to get through this…together."

Jeff conceded, realizing that comment was a bit out of place. He looked at his friends, seeing how much they'd all been hurt by men just because they were loved and treasured by another.

"They're going to pay for what they've done" Jeff hissed.

Jay agreed.

A nurse came in, the one to check Evan's vitals. She started on the ravenette, checking his heart rate and temperature and so on.

John observed that she was rather pretty, so when she looked at him he flashed her his most charming smile. She actually _winced_, then smiled pitifully back. His heart skipped a beat, the smile falling in a confused frown. He managed to sit up a bit, snapping his fingers to get Christian's attention.

"Get me a mirror, Jay."

The blonde hesitated, "Johnny, maybe you shouldn't do this now."

"Don't patronize me!" John snapped, giving him a 'come here' gesture "Give me a damn mirror."

Jay got up, walking over to the nurse and asking her quite nicely for a compact. She pulled a rather large one out, handing it over. The blonde, nervous as hell, went over and gave his friend the make-up. John narrowed his eyes at the other, but cracked it open and peered into the mirror.

John's jaw fell open, eyes darting all over his face. He hadn't seen himself, and hadn't even thought it would be this bad. They'd cut his hair! One…two fucking inches! He had these ugly discoloration all over him, along his cheek and down around his neck. And the gash along his body…the way it cut into his cheek…it was going to scar!

Jay had gotten three steps away before John screamed, a blood-chilling sound of pure agony.

John tossed the compact aside, everything hitting him all at once. He was ugly! He was defiled and ruined and _ugly_! Shawn would never want to touch him again! And the fans…what were the fans going to say? They loved him, loved his look, and now? Oh God, it physically hurt…everything hurt. His pride, his body, his over inflated ego was popped. Disgusting, that's what he was.

John grabbed the blanket they'd given him, pulling it over his head and curling up beneath it. Moments later, the sound of sobbing came from beneath it.

Jay went to his side, laying a hand on his covered shoulder, "Johnny, please, it's not that bad-"

"Don't touch me!"

The harsh snap made the blonde jerk away, pulling his hand back as if he'd been burned.

"Jay?" he turned, seeing Jeff shaking his head at him "Leave him alone."

Jay nodded, but he couldn't help but adding, "We love you Johnny, Shawn loves you. It's nothing that can't be fixed."

He got no response, so he went back to his own bed.

Shawn walked in, seeing his pet so upset, "Shit, did it hit him?""Nope" Jeff sighed, nestling his head into his pillow to try and get some sleep "He just saw his reflection."

**xXxXxXx**

_Back at the arena…_

Cody was all but clinging to the cage, fingers laced in the tightly woven steel wire that blocked him from his master. He desperately wanted to get in there, but he couldn't. Hunter had gotten control of the match, Randy was slowly being beaten down.

But only because Hunter had gotten a hold of a chair was stiff-shotting it.

Randy was having trouble catching his breath, staying on his feet. He was cornered in the cage, blocking his head from Hunter's blows. An almost diamond shaped cut was on his head, showing where the older man had slammed his head into the cage wall repeatedly. It was bleeding a bit, but nothing he couldn't handle. He still had some energy, he could still fight.

Hunter tossed aside the chair, digging under the ring until he found a weapon that would placate his desire to destroy the man. He dug out a solid baseball bat, weighing it in his palms and grinning maliciously. Randy lunged at him, catching the blonde around the waist and taking him down onto the floor. They grappled a bit; the crowd's bloodthirsty cheering cascading down upon them.

They got lost in the animalistic struggle, their eyes wild as they both fought for what they wanted.

Hunter to destroy all that his former teammate loved.

Randy fought to preserve it.

Soon enough, Hunter muscled Randy down until he was pinning the younger man to the floor. He straddled his waist, brandishing the baseball bat. Randy had little time to react before the thicker end collided with his forehead, snapping his head back painfully. His vision went a little blurry, but Hunter hadn't done enough. The blonde stood, snarling like an animal, and drew back his bat.

Only when Randy sat up to regain his bearings did he swing, a sick thud of flesh meeting wood hitting his ears. The younger man's head bounced violently.

Cody choked back a scream, watching helplessly as his master was struck down.

Randy went down hard, collapsing in a boneless heap. Cody feared the worse, his feet slowly taking him around the cage. He was almost afraid to approach, he stayed wary that the fight would turn on him.

Hunter grabbed Randy by the wrist and dragged him across the floor. IT wasn't that hard, Randy couldn't put two thoughts together let alone struggle. The blonde ripped the chain away, shouldering open the door easily. He pulled Orton out, letting him lay a bit past the door. The ref shoved past him, kneeling down next to the Viper and checking him.

Hunter stepped back into the cage, snatching up the chain-lock and waiting.

At the first full sight of his fallen master, Cody threw his caution aside and rushed forward. He fell to his knees, gently cradling his master's neck.

"Randy?" Cody whispered, keeping his touch gentle. His eyes clenched shut, face screwed up in pain. Just as Cody was about to bed the ref to end the match, a meaty hand clamped along the back of his neck. He yelped, all his feline instincts tell him to freeze. But he did manage to thrash a bit, getting dragged to his feet and away from his master. He was yanked forcefully back into the cage, trying to claw at Hunter's hand but found it useless.

Hunter easily tossed the boy into the ring, manhandling him under the ropes. He hurried and shut the cage door, slipping the chain through and locking it firmly. The crowd roared in protest, for Cody was very beloved by the fans even if Randy was not. The ref saw this, his eyes wide in surprise. He stood up, yelling at Hunter to unlock the door.

Hunter wiggled his fingers mockingly, then put his back to them.

Cody scrambled across the ring on his hands and knees, not stopping until he hit the ropes. He curled his arms over the lower ropes, heart beating wildly in his chest. Every instinct in him was screaming at him to get out of here, to get the hell away from Hunter. He knew he was trapped, and he found himself half in shock.

Cody curled an arm around his waist protectively, though he didn't know why.

Hunter shoved the baseball bat back under the ring curtain, finding his sledgehammer instead that he'd put there earlier before the show. He hauled it with him into the ring, glaring down the young boy. Cody slowly turned to look at him from the canvas, terror on his face.

The blonde approached him like a panting predator, ready to devour him.

Cody tried to disappear into the ropes, slowly scooting away. Why was he so terrified? Why didn't he start running? Maybe because he'd been sapped of all his energy these past two months, between the vomiting, the fatigue, the heartburn, the dizziness that would hit him at odd times…it seems he had lost some of his strength. Hunter stalked closer, the boy crawling backward until his shoulders smacked against the lowest turnbuckle. He shook his head as the man approached, will it to be untrue.

"Don't" Cody whispered, making himself as small as possible.

Hunter reached down and caught eh boy by his neck, pulling him to his feet.

"You think you're too good for me, pussy-bitch?" Hunter growled, savoring the look of unadulterated fear in those bright cerulean eyes "You think you're so damn special because of what you are? You're a Goddamn freak and that's all. You're fucking lucky that I'd take time with you. But now that ain't gonna happen."

Cody was confused, but grateful.

Hunter's eyes lingered on the boy's collar, 'RKO' shining faintly there on the supple leather, "I know your secret."

"W-What secret?" Cody choked, the hand clamped down on his windpipe tightened up.

"You don't deserve shit. You're nothing but a spoiled bitch, and the only thing you really deserve is to be put in your place?" Hunter picked him up slightly, pinning him against the turnbuckles while slowly squeezing the air from his lungs "If I had my way, I'd have you on leash at my feet…open and ready to be fucked whenever I felt the urge. I'd use the fuck out of you, leave you broken and pliant like a good pussy…"

Hunter's eyes fell to the brunette's stomach, his other hand yanking up his t-shirt to expose the smooth skin of his rounding tummy, "And Orton sure as fuck doesn't deserve this."

It all went in slow motion after that.

Hunter let go of his neck, both hands clenching around the sledgehammer's handle. Cody had no time to dodge, no time to scream even. He could only watch as the iron head was thrust toward him. Like a solid battering-ram, the thick weapon collided with his stomach.

Randy managed to get up on his elbows, shaking his head like a wounded beast. His blood pounded out a war rhythm inside his skull. He pushed the ref away, sitting up completely and rubbing his forehead. There was just a bit of blood there, nothing too worrisome.

"What the hell is he doing?!" one of the refs called.

Randy instantly shook off his vertigo, getting to his feet, "Cody!"

Randy watched his boy get punched in the stomach with the business end of Triple H's sledgehammer, doubling over on himself. He pulled at the cage door, the chain, finding it locked. He whirled on the refs, snarling.

"Open up this fucking door!"

They skittered away to obey, going to find the key they hadn't used. Cody had collapsed at Hunter's feet. But The Game wasn't having that, and with a mighty heave Hunter picked the boy up and tossed him over the top rope. The crowd was wild, cheering and booing alike, not realizing or not caring that it was real.

Cody landed with a sick thud, limp.

The blonde ref came back with a key, slipping it into the padlock and unlocking it. The moment it was off, Randy kicked open the door and barreled in. He ran for his pet, but stopped when he passed Hunter (who was up in the ring.)

"It's me or your bitch, Orton" Hunter smirked down at him, delighted to see his ex-stablemate all riled up "You choose."

Randy looked to his fallen sub, then back at the blonde, "If you've hurt him…"

"Yeah, yeah" Hunter waved him off, already knowing his decision.

Randy forgot about the older man, giving his boy all his concentration. He carefully dropped down to his side, laying his hand on his boy's lower back.

"Cody? Baby, look at me."

Cody couldn't breathe, everything was on fire. He could taste the copper of his own blood in his mouth, could feel something sticky between his thighs. He struggled to get up on his elbows, his belly cramping horribly. It was an intense pain, physically and emotionally. He managed to do a sort of sit-up, slowly bringing his knees underneath him to support his weight.

Randy looked over his pet, mouth going dry.

"M-Master, something's wrong with me…" Cody whispered, clenching his fingers in his shirt.

Randy blanched, "Cody…your mouth's bleeding…"

Crimson was slowly starting to stain the back of his jeans, just visible beneath his jacket.

Cody rucked up his shirt, exposing some of his torso and his twitching tail. They both gave slight gasps of horror and shock, eyes locked on his belly.

Darkening ruddy and violent splotches were appearing along his stomach, indicating internal problems.

"Master…" Cody rasped, fingers trembling violently as they skimmed across his tummy "I'm bleeding everywhere."

* * *

***dodges sharp objects* I know! I'm horrible! It just gets worse!**

**Emono: *shoves Shawn aside* Move! *hides in DX bunker***

**DX: Hey!**

**Emono: Shut the hell up!**

***takes calming breath* Ok, I read over ya'lls reviews…this is for everyone who thought Hunter was changing his mind. Come on guys, really? Hunter telling Randy about the scheme? **

**Miz: Really, readers? **_**Really**_**?**

**Emono: Yeah, you tell 'em, Miz.**

**Cody getting off scot-free while everyone else gets beaten and raped? Hell noz, Cody…I love ya, but not that much.**


	16. Chapter 16

**Sorry about the cliffhanger, but I couldn't NOT end there. It just felt right. So this continues off the last bit. I was actually going to wait a week to post this one, but since I didn't post last weekend...bonus chapters!  
**

* * *

The cage lifted, exposing the ring.

Randy was horrified at the sight of his boy's belly covered in violent marks, only getting darker by the moment. He reached out, hesitantly touching his stomach, pale at the sight of it.

Cody shuddered delicately. His lungs cramped, forcing him to cough roughly until blood sputtered over his lower lip.

"Ref!" Randy spun, screaming at the blonde man "Call the medics! We need an ambulance!"

The medics swarmed fast, a whole team coming down with a stretcher.

"Randy?" Cody whispered, the strangers easing him down onto the stretcher "R-Randy!"

"Shh, baby, I'm here" Randy whispered, coming up next to him and making him lay down so they could get him out of there "Let them get you to the ambulance, ok? Don't move."

Cody nodded, in so much pain but trusting his master. He whimpered when they lifted him, rushing him out of there. The hand that wasn't clutching at his stomach came up to touch his collar, smearing blood across the initials of his master.

Randy got up from his crouch, a snarl on his lips as he whipped around in search of Hunter. The man was gone, probably already out of the arena after a stunt like that. Instead, he grabbed the blonde ref by his collar and demanded his cell phone. The smaller man handed it over, the Viper snatched it before throwing the other away. He quickly dialed a familiar number, putting the phone to his ear as he followed the quick-footed medics up the ramp.

"Mark" Randy was glad to get a hold of him "Listen, something happened here. Did you ever track down that special doctor?"

At the confirmation, he gave a grateful sigh, "Hunter attacked Cody. No, not like that. I don't know what the fuck happened, but he's bleeding like a gutted pig. I'm taking him to the hospital right now. Get that doctor guy on the phone, he's seriously hurt. I…I think he might've ruptured something inside him…"

**xXxXxXx**

_At the hospital…_

"Come on, 'Taker, let me go" John growled, following his leader down the hall of the hospital.

"No, John."

"Let me go look for him!" John caught up to the older man, stepping in front of him and meeting his eyes "My Ted's out there _God_ knows where with anyone. Your brother has Phil! Don't you think we outta be out there hunting them down?"

Mark glared at his left-hand man, "I'm working on it, John. Calm down, you're not going to help anyone by reacting rashly."

"Rashly?!" John snapped "I'm miles past 'rash' straight into fucking pissed off!"

"Enough" Mark gave him a hard look "Don't you think I'm doing everything I can for this Court? Don't you think I want to find these bastards and put a bullet in their Goddamn head?!"

John shrank back at his leader's commanding tone, dropping his eyes to the floor. Just then, Undertaker's cellphone rang. He grumbled a bit, but answered it nonetheless.

"Hello?" Mark listened as Randy's strained voice came from the other line, filling his ears "What do you mean something's happened? Yes, of course I tracked down that doctor. He's in town right now, ready for when we get Ted back."

John watched as Undertaker listened intently to one of their younger masters, eyes going shades darker.

"Were you in the ring? Did he…?" the unspoken end of the question was there, but it was negative. He kept listening, growing angrier by the moment.

"Ok, bring him here" Mark rumbled "If what I think happened…just get him here fast. It's time to end this."

Mark hung up, staring down at his phone.

"Fuck!" he barked, such a harsh curse from his usually calm demeanor.

"Mark" John sounded surprised, eyebrow raised "What is it?"

"Just…_fuck_" Mark hissed "This is all my fault, I've let it go too far. I've been too lenient, too trusting. They've invaded us, they've taken what's most precious to us. It's time we take them all down at once."

John saw the murderous gleam in his leader's eyes, and he let him go.

Mark continued to the nurse's station, glaring at the young man behind the desk, "Did it come from the arena?"

"Yes sir" the young man muttered, brandishing a tape "They said it caught the perpetrator, sir. Do you want me to call the police?"

"No" Mark held up the tape "Just show me somewhere I can play this."

"Yes sir" the boy stood up, stepping out from behind his workstation "Right this way."

Mark followed, pulling his phone out and finding a specific number. He hit dial, putting it to his ear. It rang only once, answered with a quick hello.

"Dr. Collins" Mark growled "It's be best if you got your ass down to the hospital. Right. Now."

**xXxXxXx**

Randy watched two doctors and a bushel of nurses swarm over his pet, taking him straight to the ICU. They wheeled him inside, shut the door between them, and the rest Randy couldn't see.

Not two minutes in, a dark haired doctor approached him.

"Randy, my name is Dr. Collins" the man stated firmly, a grim expression on his face "I'm afraid we'll get to know each other very well soon enough. I need you to sign this."

The man handed over a clipboard with a paper on it, a glance through showed it was some kind of override form.

"What's this?" Randy asked, glaring at the handsome ravenette "Who the hell are you?"

"I'm the doctor Mr. Calaway called, I'm here to take care of…Cody, is it?" Collins glanced into the emergency room "They don't know what they're doing, and if you don't sign this there'll be a leak of information about his genetics. Sign this and I take over, the information stays sealed. I need complete control to take care of Cody properly."

Randy took the pen of the clipboard, signing it quickly, "Go, help him!"

Collins nodded, taking it back and rushing inside. He immediately took over the room, commanding attention and getting it. They went to work on him, jacket and hat stripped aside.

Jericho came up behind him, laying a hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Randy, you need to calm down" Chris whispered, sensing the tension in his friend "Go. Take a shower, change your clothes. You can't do anything for him."

"I can't leave him" Randy replied sharply, eyes locked on the sight.

"Do you really want to see Cody's blood?"

Randy whipped around, glaring at the blonde.

Chris smile slightly, "It won't take long. By the time you're done…maybe they'll be done with Cody."

Randy didn't want to leave, but every moment he stood here watching was another moment his heart broke.

"Could you watch him for me?"

"I'll stay right here" Chris promised "If something happens, I'll come get you."

Randy looked back through the door, sending out a silent prayer, //Pull through this, baby. I promised to take care of you and I failed. I trust 'Taker got the best to take care of you now.//

Randy left, letting the doctors help his love.

**xXxXxXx**

While Miz was appointed to stay in the room with the subs, so as not to overcrowd them while they were in such a delicate state, Shawn couldn't help himself and came in. He went to his pet's side, who was still curled up under the covers. His sobs had died away some time ago.

"Johnny?" Shawn sat down on the bed, sensing the depression coming off his pet in waves "Come on, glitter bug, don't be like that."

There was a shifting under the covers, but no real reply.

"I understand you're upset, John, I really do" Shawn reached out, stroking along what was surely his love's shoulder "But you need to calm down, sweetheart."

"Calm down?" John whined from beneath the coverlet "I'm hideous."

"No you're not" Shawn assured him, shocked that his pet would think such a thing "You're beautiful, Johnny. You'll always be beautiful."

The younger man sniffled, "They cut my hair…"

"It's just a bit, sweetheart."

"Why?"

"It was matted and grimy" Shawn pulled a face, remembering how just ruined some of it was "It'll grow back."

A soft stutter of breath was his reply, "My face…"

Shawn lifted the corner of the blanket, finding his pet's pouting, tear streaked face there gazing at him.

"There's nothing wrong with you" Shawn smiled sweetly "You look as amazing as ever."

"You're lying" John's lips twisted in a scowl "He's ruined me!"

John pulled the blanket back down, tears coming to his eyes again.

Shawn sighed, "No, John, what you're feeling is a defense mechanism. Ya know what those are, darlin'?"

John nodded from beneath the covers, trying not to think about it.

"Stop concentrating on your looks" Shawn lifted back up the blanket, meeting those lovely dark eyes "What's hurting you?"

John bit his lower lip, he didn't want to say it. He closed his eyes, trying to suppress it again. It was bubbling in his belly, refusing to go away.

"…I promised you when you took me in that…that I'd never let another guy fuck me without a condom…" tears seeped past his lashes, rolling down his cheeks "I wanted to give you that _one_ thing…and now…"

Shawn cupped his lover's cheek, tilting his head up. He didn't say a word until John's eyes fluttered open once more, looking at him with misery etched deep in his eyes.

"I don't care about that" Shawn replied seriously, running his fingers through his pet's soft raven hair affectionately "I care that you're alive and with me. I care about killing the bastards who did this to you. I care about you staying safe."

John melted into the touch, soaking up his master's words.

"I'm sorry" John whispered.

"Don't be" Shawn leant down, dropping a chaste kiss on his pet's lips "I love you, sweetheart."

The small gesture meant more to John than anything else, and he felt his heart mend back together.

"Love you too, Shawn" John reached up, touching his master's dark copper hair "Can…can I have something to help me sleep?"

//He's afraid of the nightmares// Shawn knew this by the look on his pet's face.

He nodded, giving him one last caress before getting up to go find a nurse.

John settled down into the mattress, so relieved his master still loved him.

Christian sat on his own bed, eating the sandwich his brother had brought him. He caught John's eyes, trying not to smile too much.

John did break a smile though, "Don't say it."

"He loves you" Jay stated simply.

The ravenette breathed a sigh of contentment, "Yeah…he does, doesn't he?"

**xXxXxXx**

Freshly showered and taking a change of clothes from Cena, Randy sat alone in a small waiting room. The nurse had told him Dr. Collins had wanted him to remain here so that they could speak privately, their matters were not ones to be spoke about in a regular waiting room. The light was thankfully dimmer, the couch he sat on soft. He was leaning forward, elbows on his knees and hands folded. He pressed his chin to them, then his mouth, once in a while giving a heavy sigh.

Randy Orton was not known for his patience.

It had been almost an hour, his nerves were frazzled.

The door opened, the doctor came back in. Randy got a good look at him, sizing him up. He was shorter than himself, slighter, pale skin and pitch raven hair. His eyes were a bright blue, intense, focused. He was more a scholar than a fighter, not a threat in the Orton's mind. Very handsome, but he looked like he hadn't gotten enough sleep in weeks. A splash of blood stained across his light blue scrubs, nothing dark enough to be fatal, though.

"Doctor" Randy went to stand, but the man held out a hand.

"Sit."

Randy obeyed, the ravenette sitting down next to him.

"Mr. Orton-"

"Randy."

The smaller man smiled slightly, "I'm Misha, then."

Randy nodded, "How's Cody?"

Misha wet his full lips, "That…is a difficult question."

Randy's heart skipped, "Don't beat around the bush here, Doc. Tell me straight up. This is my boy, and if anything happened to him, I have the right to know!"

Misha nodded, "I know you do. But I've got some things to explain…and they made be hard to hear, but you need to hear them."

Randy nodded slowly, "Tell me."

"Cody had near-massive internal bleeding" Misha began "We've managed to contain it, but I don't have high hopes that our treatment will last more than another hour. I'm afraid he'll need surgery."

Randy noticed the waver in the man's hand, "What kind of surgery?"

"That's where it gets complicated" Misha was obviously struggling with this, guilt and sympathy in his eyes "I'm sorry for this, I really am."

Randy was more confused than ever.

"These genetics aren't supposed to pass to the males" the doctor began very professionally, pushing his feelings aside "And there's a very specific reason for that. The XY chromosome isn't known for adapting well to severe changes like cells that tell the body to grow…feline features. Sometimes the males are born substantially weaker, frail throughout their entire lives. Cody is one of the great exceptions, as is the other boy. Cody is healthy, he's in perfect condition…maybe even too perfect."

Randy refused to think anymore than on the surface, just listening.

"The anatomy of a male with these special genetics is different from the one you and I have" Misha tread very carefully "But only in a few aspects. There's a special organ, just here…" Misha put his fist low on his abdomen to indicate it's placement "It's similar to that of a normal woman's womb."

Randy wasn't sure what to say, he thought Hunter had ruptured this organ.

"This means that a male with these genes can get pregnant" Misha noted the shock on the man's face, and he didn't blame him "This can usually happen around twenty-eight years of age. Unlike a woman, who's much more receptive when they're younger, the male can reach his pique at thirty. And because of the feline tendencies, they don't show many outward signs of pregnancy until the very end. While a cat will only be pregnant for two months, a normal gestation period for a human male would be only six or seven months."

Randy nodded dumbly, just going along with this. It sounded insane, but of course someone with cat ears and a tail would be different.

"I know this sounds a bit invasive, but I need you to answer a few questions."

Randy nodded, "Yeah, ok."

"Has Cody been complaining of pressure on his stomach? Indigestion? Maybe he's been getting dizzy, or just really tired?" Misha fished, getting nods "Has he expressed any thoughts of depression?"

"He's…he's been sulking a bit, but he won't tell me why" Randy stated "I think he's been talking to Ted about it."

Misha nodded, "Has there been any change in his sex drive? A lack or rise of?"

Randy sighed, a weak smile on his face "Yeah. A while back now, there were these few weeks where he wanted to have sex constantly."

Misha smiled faintly, "That's another thing. Like a cat, people with these genetics can go through a period of 'heat' where the sex drive escalates. Sometimes it's so faint partners can't tell, other times it's blatantly obvious. Anything recent?"

"Not really" Randy thought back "He's been feeling sick for the past month or so, I didn't want to make it worse. And the last time we had sex…something happened. He started…cramping. I thought it was the stomach virus."

Misha raised a brow, "So he's been vomiting?"

Randy nodded, then frowned, "Just in the mornings though."

It all hit Randy at once.

"_I'm sorry for this, I really am."_

"No…" Randy looked at he doctor, begging it not to be true.

"Randy, I'm sorry" Misha reached out, touching the man's arm "Cody was pregnant."

It took Randy several long moments to process this. He accepted that guys with feline genetics could get pregnant, that made more sense than anything. But…

"You said this doesn't happen until later" Randy narrowed his eye s at the floor "Cody's…he's just a kid! He's twenty-four."

"Like I said, Cody is a great exception" the doctor hurried to explain "He's surprisingly fertile for someone his age. How he got pregnant this early…I would've never thought it'd be possible."

Randy bit down on his lower lip, taking a minute to compose himself before looking up.

"He…_lost_ the baby?" he inquired in a soft whisper.

"Yes, he did" Misha replied just as lowly "The blow he took…severed the fetus in half. Unlike the normal female woman, this version of a womb is less cradled within the body. It has almost no protection, as close to the surface as to say… the kidneys are."

Randy clenched his eyes shut, "How far along was he?"

"Three months" the doctor wanted to say more, explain that the child wasn't even half way developed yet, but decided against it.

Randy nodded, taking a mighty breath. He looked to the waver, taking it from the ravenette's hand and looking it over.

"What kind of surgery is this?"

"I need to remove the dead fetus" Misha winced at his choice of words "It'll be invasive surgery, I'll have to cut him open. I need to be given full rights so I can do my job. The other surgeons wouldn't have any idea what they were doing."

Randy took the pen offered to him, once again signing his name. Grief had seized his heart, showing on his face. A baby…he could've had a child, and he had no idea it was even possible. He had always kind of wanted a child, one of those secret desires he'd always harbored. A young son with his eyes, Cody's dark hair…maybe even the same genetic make-up.

"Randy, please, don't let the misery consume you" Misha pleaded "There's good news."

Randy looked up, handing back the waiver, "What could possibly be good about this?"

"The good news is that this isn't a one-shot deal" the doctor assured him "With these genetics, Cody's reproduction system is very resilient. It'll heal. I'll be very careful with him, cut only when I need to. He can be physically healed in just a few months. With his fertility, he could get pregnant as soon as the beginning of next year."

Randy was shocked by this, "We could have another chance?"

Misha actually smiled a little, "Yes of course. If you have Mark contact me, I'll be happy to take care of Cody for all his prenatal needs."

Randy nodded, some of his grief disappearing.

Misha looked down at the waiver, then back at him, "Cody's very upset. I think you should go talk to him while I'm preparing for surgery."

Randy nodded, "Did you tell him everything?"

"I did."

**xXxXxXx**

Misha led him to Cody's room, leaving him to go get changed and scrub up, "I'll send a nurse for him."

Randy stood outside the door for a few moments, taking a couple deep breaths. He couldn't let himself get lost in pain, for his boy was in much more and needed him to be strong. He opened the door, finding his boy in a single room that Mark had promised.

Cody was sitting on the bed, knees up to his chest and arms wrapped around his torso. He was crying, face buried between the groove of his knees. Randy approached slowly, knowing his boy heard him by the way his ears twitched when he shut the door. He didn't say anything, just walked up to the end of the bed and stood there.

"I'm so sorry" Cody hiccupped, lifting his head but only looking down at his knees "I-I didn't know I was pregnant…I would've been so…so much more careful if I had…I thought I was getting fat, I didn't think that I could ever get pregnant."

"Cody, it's fine, I don't blame you" Randy assured him, walking past the bed to stand beside his pet. He reached out, running the back of his hand over soft raven hair and his boy's cheek. Cody leaned into the touch, tears touching his master's skin from the contact. He took Randy's hand in his own, rubbing against it and inhaling his lover's scent.

"I've always wanted to give you a son."

The words shocked Randy, he sat down on the bed and gave his boy an imploring look, "What? We've never…I've never talked to you about that."

"You didn't have to" Cody smiled through his tears, misery in his eyes "I remember once a year ago…we were in a diner. This woman in the booth beside us was eating alone, enjoying some quiet, with a baby in a carrier next to her. You kept looking past me at it, you had this little smile on your lips…there was a soft look on your face. It was a little boy, I could hear it suckling on it's pacifier. You said something about love, about innocence, and I knew you were talking about the baby."

Cody clenched his eyes shut, more tears spilling out, "All men want a son…and I thought I couldn't give you that. A-And now…I've ruined it…"

Randy pulled the boy into his arms, dropping kisses in his hair. Cody clung onto him for dear life, burying his face in his neck and deeply breathing in his scent. He let his pet take all the comfort he needed, all but gathering him into his arms.

"I love _you_, Cody" Randy pulled back enough to look into his boy's face, thumbing away some of the tears "I love everything about you. Whether you give me a son or not doesn't matter, all that matters is that your safe and here with me."

Cody lifted up his shirt, exposing his belly. Randy cringed at the colorful sight, but he laid a hand over it tenderly. His boy gasped, but let him.

"This was a tragedy" Randy stated, his pet's lower lips trembling "But you need to have this surgery, Cody. We can't linger on this, it'll destroy us. You'll heal, we'll move on…and then we can talk about children."

Cody's eyes lit up, "We can try again?"

Randy nodded, "Yeah, Codes. We'll talk about it, try again, and this time we'll take proper precautions."

Cody looked down at his belly again, shadowing his hand over his master's, "…we could've had a boy, Randy. We could've had one now."

Randy leaned down, brushing a kiss across his plump lips, "How 'bout this, my sweet. We'll take a few weeks off after this…give us both time to heal."

Cody nodded, being realistic about this. The baby hadn't even been three months along, it had no real conscious. He had no idea he was pregnant in the first place. He couldn't find it in him to mourn the loss of the life, but he did mourn the idea of giving Randy a child.

The knowledge that they could try again helped him.

A nurse knocked on the door, popping her head inside, "Cody? Honey, we need to get you into surgery."

Cody nodded, hugging his master one last time, "Will you be here when I get out?"

Randy whispered that he would, giving him one last kiss before letting him go.

* * *

…**ok, this is a touchy subject. Cody is a **_**guy**_**, his emotional make-up is different. He's not going to get too depressed over this baby this. Yes, it's tragic and horrible and everything, but I can't have the Court shattering completely. Randy and Cody are strong.**


	17. Chapter 17

**I think I'm getting sick again, I feel horrible. I also feel like I'm hitting some speed bumps with this story, I'm not really sure where I'm going with it. So if some of it seems forced, sorry.**

* * *

Mark sat alone in one of the hospital's many break room, watching the wheeled-in TV there closely. The screen showed the arena's parking lot, and the remote in his hand controlled the time. He fast-forwarded it, waiting for the moment he saw Jake's blonde hair.

He found it, now he just had to watch.

Mark scowled when he saw none other than Vladimir Kozlov come out from the corner of the screen, striking Jake over the head with what appeared to be a tire iron. The boy fell, the duffle bags he was carrying falling to the ground. Another shot and Jake was down, collapsing in a heap on the cement ground.

Mark kept watching, eyes glinting when he watched Kozlov kneel down and roll Jake back over. He touched the boy, bending down to take what he was sure the Russian thought of as his prize, but none other than Raven came into the picture. This confirmed Mark's fears.

It seemed they were all working together.

Mark clicked off the tape when Miz came into the picture, knowing he had seen enough.

//This ends soon.//

**xXx**

_The next morning…_

The sun found The Court still alive after the torturous night, recuperating. All the masters were in Undertaker's reserved sitting room, light dim. While Cena was hunched over in one of the plush chairs, cap pulled down low and snoring softly, the others were stretched out on the couches provided. The widest one went to Shawn, the other two were occupied by Adam and Matt.

Jay, who had been cleared to sleep after a few hours, was changed into a pair of scrub pants and fast asleep in his bed.

Evan was still shifting restlessly on the bed, but had finally gotten some sleep. Chris was sitting in a chair by the bed's headboard, head tilted back against the wall as he slept.

Morrison was sleeping quietly, an arm thrown over his eyes and his blanket pulled up to his chest.

Jeff still had his head buried in his arms, flat on his belly, out cold as his body recovered.

Miz was still sitting by his pet's bed, arms folded on the bed and sleeping with his head pillowed on them. He would have a strain in his back when he woke up from the position of being bend over the bed a bit, but he didn't care at the moment.

Only one person was up.

Jake gave a soft groan, eyelashes fluttering briefly before his blue eyes were exposed to the world. He winced at the fresh morning sun spilling through the window, soft but strong to his over-sensitive eyes. His head hurt like hell and he had no idea why. Once his eyes stopped throbbing, he got a good look around. He seemed to be in a hospital, the gown on his body and he himself laying in a bed. A few machines were hooked up to him, a little gadget on his finger and an IV in his wrist.

Jake noted that Morrison, Jay, Jeff, and Evan were all in beds as well. This scared the hell out of him. Was everyone ok? What the hell happened? They all had bandages of some sort on him, and Evan was flushed a cherry red.

Jake realized that his master was fast asleep beside him, looking worse for wear. Dark rings were under his eyes, once-manicured fingernails chewed raw, and hair a mess. He looked so tired…so world-weary, it broke Jake's heart. He reached out and cupped his large hand along the back of his master's neck, stroking his fingers through his brunette hair. It was a slow caress, his fingertips massaging his skin.

Miz shifted, slowly pulling himself out of his sleep. He blinked dully at the familiar sensation, trying to figure out what it was. He smacked his lips, wetting them, slowly sitting up. He gave a whimper, his lower back popping. A hand was in his hair, cupping his face now. He gasped, catching the thick wrist, finding striking blue eyes peering at him.

"Jake?" he gasped, obviously shocked to see him.

"You look horrible, Master" Jake ran his thumb along the brunette's cheek, concern in his voice "Are you ok?"

Miz gaped at him, lips working silently around words he wasn't sure of. Eventually he just hugged his lover, all but throwing himself onto the blonde and wrapping his arms around his neck. Jake gave an 'oof' as some of his breath was knocked out of him, but embraced his master back. He ran his hands up his back, feeling the muscles like it'd been years since their last encounter.

Miz started raining kisses down upon the younger man's neck and cheeks, smiling wildly. Jake gave a startled yelp, eyes wide as he pushed his master away.

"What happened?" Jake gasped, the older man all but giggling in his face "Did I almost die?"

"You've been out for hours, love" Miz replied, stealing a long kiss from the mouth he loved "They told me you might not wake up, I was so scared that…"

Jake realized his master must've been worried sick, so he let him nuzzle and kiss at his neck again.

"But what happened to me?"

"You don't remember?"

Jake shook his head, "The last thing I remember is you telling me to go to the car."

Miz pulled back, sighing softly, "I've got some things to tell you, baby."

Jake listened.

**xXx**

Later on, once the doctor had checked Jake over and given him a cat-scan, he had proclaimed the blonde fine. The steroids had reduced the swelling and there seemed to be no permanent damage.

Cody stayed asleep most of the day, his surgery had been successful and they had put him on morphine so he could sleep off most of the raw pain that came from invasive surgery. Randy stayed in his room with him, only leaving when he finally knew he had to eat.

"John!"

Cena paused, finger hovering over the coffee dispenser button. He turned, Randy coming up to him looking unrested and a little off-kilter. John immediately brought him into a man hug, slapping his shoulder sympathetically. No words were exchanged, but they both knew it was because of his lost kid. John couldn't imagine what his friend was going through, but he wanted him to know he was here for him.

"Hey man" John pulled back, looking into his face "How are you holdin' up? How's Cody holdin' up?"

"Cody's sleeping it all off, he's…better than expected about it all" Randy sighed "Listen, I need a favor."

"Anything."

"Can you tell the other boys about Cody?" Randy asked "I…I can't do it. I thought I could, but I don't want to get emotional in front of them right now. They need us all to be strong for them and I can't do that just right now."

John held up a hand, "Don't worry about it. I got this, ok?"

Randy smiled gratefully, "Did I ever mention you're my favorite friend?"

They both knew it was true. That…and they both knew the subs adored and respected John. They would really listen to him.

Keeping to his promise, John decided to get it over with and headed up to the subs room. He knocked first, then opened it. He noted that Chris and Miz were gone, though he wasn't sure why. The boys had been talking amongst themselves, Evan actually sitting up and sipping at a water bottle by himself.

"Ok, boys, listen up" John smiled a bit when they obeyed, but a frown twisted down the corner of his lips "Something…something bad has happened."

John proceeded to explain to them about Cody's cat genetics, how he is able to carry a baby under the right circumstances. And when he finally let out that Cody had lost a baby, the horror on their faces was enough evidence to prove they would be very sensitive about this.

"I'm just asking you guys watch what you say, how you touch Cody. Just for a while" John stated "Depression can set in real easy after something like this. I want you all to stick together, help each other out. What happened…what's happening…it's horrible. But all of you can get through it if you look out for each other."

They nodded, understanding.

"How far along was he?" Jay asked, propped up on his elbow on his bed.

"Just three months."

Jake winced, "Hunter's thuch a dick."

Jeff snorted, "Understatement."

"Cody's sleeping the surgery off right now, he's in another room on the opposite end of the floor" John informed them "He'll need you when he wakes up."

"Poor Cody" Evan whispered, water bottle still to his lips.

After making sure they didn't need anything else, John left them. As soon as he shut the door, he found Randy standing there. He didn't get a word out before he was taken by the arm and dragged down the hall, both entering the waiting room 'Taker had gotten for them. All the other masters were inside, they were all sitting except for Mark.

Not long after John sat down did the door open back up, the raven haired doctor that had worked on Cody entering. Mark glared the smaller man down, getting the other to shudder.

"Doctor" Mark growled "What do you know about John Layfield?"

Misha's eyes widened fractionally, revealing his guilt.

Randy gave him a fierce glare, "What the hell does he mean?"

Misha wet his lower lip, hoping this didn't mean what he thought, "I was in town because a man named John Layfield contacted me. He had a blood sample he wanted me to run work on. He said it was for someone with the feline gene, and when I ran it I found alleles pointing to pregnancy. He told me to call someone named Hunter…"

Misha winced as Randy advanced, quickly blurting out, "I told him the subject was pregnant."

The punch in the mouth was painful and it made Misha's head spin a bit, but he managed to keep his footing. He clutched his aching jaw, flexing it slowly to make sure it wasn't dislocated. It was on fire, that was for sure. Once he got back his breath, the doctor managed to state.

"I had no idea they were planning this" Misha stated, though it was kind of muffled past his hand "People call me all the time, send me samples, too embarrassed or too secretive to come see me in person. I didn't think someone would want to harm him. I didn't even know who 'he' was, I assumed he was the mate of this 'Hunter' guy."

"You were fucking wrong!" Randy snapped, ready to lunge at the man again. Adam jumped up, wrapping his arms around his friend's waist and pulling him back.

"Don't, man."

Randy growled and struggled to get out of the lock, "But he-!"

"You better pray to God it was just an accident" Mark hissed, grabbing the younger man by the collar and all but picking him up off his feet "If I find out you had anything to do with this…I'll bury you right next to those sick fucks."

Misha shook his head, "I swear, I had no idea."

Undertaker tossed him aside, instead turning to his Court, "I got my hands on the security tape, it had Jake's attack on it. It seems that Kozlov had a hand in this."

Adam pulled a face, "That over-grown baboon? What the fuck?"

"Thanks to Mercury-" Mark gave a nod to Shawn, who couldn't help but smirk at his own bright idea "-we've tracked him down. I want Adam and John to come with me."

"To what?" John inquired.

"Because I believe Phil and Ted are being held in the same place" Mark cracked his knuckles absently, just thinking about bashing in his brother's skull got his adrenaline going "And I'd bet my bike he knows exactly where they are."

Adam and John exchanged a serious look, the blonde letting Randy go.

"I'm in" Edge stated.

"Me too" John nodded, pulling back on his plain baseball cap.

"I'm going."

They turned, finding Mike standing there with a dark glint in his eyes. He was a determined thing, though a little ruffled and rough-looking.

"Michael" Mark's voice was a tad softer with his youngest "Maybe it'd be better if you let us handle this."

Mike's lip curled back in a snarl, making an observation laced with accusation, "You think I don't have it in me to kill him?"

"Come on, Miz…" Edge prodded "You haven't been around that long. You don't know some of the shit we've done to keep our lives intact, to avenge our pets. We've…_destroyed_ people."

"And you think I can't?" that dominant gleam was back in those ice blue eyes "I want revenge just as badly as you guys do. Jake was seconds from being mauled by that…that Soviet bastard! I'm not going to sit back and let you guys smack him around when I should be there to wring thick neck!"

Miz sucked in a sharp breath when Matt's hand fell onto his shoulder, hissing but not pulling away. Mark was impressed by this, and he decided to give his youngling a chance. He pulled back the side of his leather jacket, reaching into the hidden pocket there and pulling out a .22 pistol. He walked over, holding it out for the man.

"Alright" Mark stated smoothly, those vibrant cerulean eyes locked on the silver-shined gun "You want the revenge? Take it. When we're done with him…do what you feel you have to. The Court will back you up in any decision you decide to make."

Mike accepted the gun, weighing it in his palm. He checked the safety, then slipped it into the back of his pants. His designer shirt covered it perfectly, concealing the danger.

"Thank you, Master 'Taker."

Mark looked around, "Matt, Shawn, Chris, Randy…stay here. Be with the boys, and be patient. Between Mercury and Kozlov…we'll get the others."

They nodded, knowing their leader wouldn't let them down.

* * *

**Wow, I actually did get really sick. I had a whole sick day to write and I couldn't, I just…didn't want to. I admit it, I haven't written anything more than a few paragraphs since Wednesday. I kind of feel bad…but not really. So if this seems a little dull, I kind of just grinded it out. **

**From the first authors note to the end: Six day span.**


	18. Chapter 18

**Ted and Punk have been gone for a day now, so let's check up on them…**

* * *

Punk kept his arms wrapped tight around his knees, knees pressed to his chest. His lower lip was trembling a bit, the cold prickling his skin. He was always so cold, and the headache growing in the base of his skull wasn't helping any to soothe his nerves. He'd been left here for hours…a whole day? He wasn't sure, his inner-clock was malfunctioning. He was a little thirsty and his stomach was growling, but overall he was ok. He felt clean for some reason, like he had taken a shower.

That creeped him out a bit.

Phil had a vague idea who was holding him here…and if he was right, then he needed to be terrified.

Phil had examined the room he was in, the fucking _cellar_ he was stuck in. It was kind of a long room, cement walls and floor, everything made to keep heat out it seemed. There was one entrance, one exit. It was at the far end. Stairs cut out a section of the wall, going up, disappearing above his line of sight and the ceiling to go to a door. It was still dark, but thanks to the line of light shining below the door…his eyes were able to adjust. It slithered down the stairs, giving him just enough illumination.

That didn't stop him from being freaked out.

A mighty click startled him, a shower of light spilling down the stairs. He winced at the brightness, moving back on the mattress, but yelped as the chains hooked to his wrist cuffs started tugging. He watched in horror as the chains started disappearing into the holes in the wall, clinking loudly as they were retracted. Phil tried to resist, tried to pull away, but he found his arms tugged back. He couldn't fight it, he found himself dragged flat against the wall.

The chains disappeared completely into the wall, locking his wrists against the wall. He was stuck, helpless now. He hissed as his back touched the freezing wall, but he had no choice and slowly adjusted.

Heavy footsteps echoed as someone took the stairs one at a time, it was a sound that struck him n the chest. He waited, breath held, heart fluttering like a caged bird against his ribs. The man appeared, just as tall as Mark and huge. Smooth shaven head, thick muscles.

"You?" Phil's lips curled in a snarl, pulling at his bound wrists "I should've known! What the hell have you done, you sick fuck?"

Kane stopped at the base of the stairs, grinning as he observed his bound prize, "Do like your restraints, little punk? I had them installed some time ago…with you in mind, of course."

Phil watched the man brandish a remote, apparently to control the chains, "You're demented. I demand you let me go."

"Oh really? You're making demands now?" Kane stalked closer, discolored eyes locked on the smaller man "Being my brother's whore really has given you a misplaced sense of superiority, hasn't it?"

Phil looked away, refusing to give the man anymore satisfaction, "What's wrong with you? Why am I here?"

Kane stopped close, just on the edge of the mattress, "Here I've been so lenient…"

Phil gasped as he backhanded hard across the face, snapping his head to the side.

"Be grateful."

"Grateful?!" Punk snapped, glaring up at the man his master had once trusted "You've kidnapped me, you monster! What should I be grateful for?!"

"Let's think" Kane fisted a handful of raven hair, yanking the man's head back "Baby Hardy was whipped up real nice and helplessly taken…Christian was knocked around before being fucked raw like an animal…tiny Air Bourne was torn up in his own home and left all trussed up for Jericho to find…"

Punk was trembling now, afraid that all of this was true.

"That cocky Swagger got his head busted open…" Kane continued, savoring the fear radiating off this Straightedge angel's body "Poor little Morrison. He got the worst of it. He was fucked hard then left drugged and helpless in a bad part of town. You know what they do with pretty boys? They use them up like the whore they are and scar their faces up."

"No" Punk shook his head, only getting his hair pulled harder "You liar!"

"You wish I was, but you know I'm not."

Phil swallowed thickly, everything in his gut telling him this bastard wasn't lying.

"It's like you knew something was different about Randy's kitten" Kane leaned in, sour breath brushing the ravenette's cheek "You knew he was pregnant, didn't you?"

Punk's eyes widened, "H-How did you know…?"

Phil had noticed the change in the boy two months ago. He liked to consider himself intelligent, and he could add two-and-two together with the morning sickness and the slowly thickening tummy.

"It doesn't matter" Kane's hand trailed down his face, rough nails scratching across his flesh "The baby's gone."

Punk felt bile build in his throat, stomach churning at the thought.

"And if you listen real closely…" Phil turned his face away, just avoiding the bastard's lips from touching his "You can hear DiBiase up there getting it hard from Dave."

"Dave?" Phil lashed out at him, boot connecting with the man's meaty calf. This got Kane to step back, wary of those strong legs.

"Are you so surprised?"

"Batista is a part of this…this horrible plan?!" Phil shouted, pissed off that Dave had tricked his trusting master like this "Mark took him in from nothing, gave him a boost in his career…he took pity on him, and that bastard helped you take me?!"

"While my brother puts all his energy into that pathetic Court of yours, all mine goes to something much greater" Kane growled, deciding to tell all. He wasn't planning on letting Punk leave this cellar ever again, so what would be so bad about spilling his plan?

Phil was forced to listen as Kane told him about his plot he had cooked up, describing how he had gotten all of the masters most hated enemies to capture their pets and ravage the hell out of them. This was all done out of spite, to hurt innocent people, and it made Punk sick.

"I'm going to destroy all that my brother loves, all that he cares about" Kane tilted his head, mighty chest heaving with a sigh of satisfaction "From his ridiculous favorites like Orton and Cena…to his coddled youngest, that clown Mizanin…and finally, to you. All will be broken down."

Kane flicked a thumb over the punk's nipple ring, getting the man to twitch, "But I promise to take it easy on you if you submit to me now. Fuck you in front of my brother, show him who really calls the shots…"

"Fiend" Phil spat venomously "Devil."

Kane snarl, shoving the boy hard his head cracked off the cement. Phil swallowed down his whimper, letting out only a grunt.

"We'll see how stuck up you are once you've had some time to think about it" Kane turned his back to him, walking away.

"Mark will find me!" Phil shouted, desperation laced in his voice "He'll slit your throat if you touch me! If what you said is true…you'll all be killed!"

Kane chuckled at the pathetic threat, "I'm sure."

"He'll find you" Phil smirked "He'll find all of you. He's going to _slaughter_ all you sick fucks."

Kane ignored the threat, taking the steps out of the cellar. The door closed, plunging Punk back into darkness. After a long moment, there was a click somewhere beneath the surface of the wall before the chains went slack. Phil tugged at his wrists, letting them drop weakly to his sides. He got away from the wall, sitting cross-legged in the middle of the mattress and using his strength to wrap his arms around his waist again.

Shivering, Punk prayed that Mark would come for him soon.

**xXxXxXx**

Ted screamed past the gag, arching up off the bed. He couldn't get away, the leash and cuffs kept him immobile. Batista had flipped him over onto his back, unhooking the cuff-and-bar binding so he could lie out flat on the surface. The leash was still hooked to the headboard, straining his neck and keeping his torso stretched out.

Dave was straddling his body, a lit pillar candle in his hand.

"Some lovers use this as erotic play, you know" Dave stated, waiting for the flame to do it's work "You should feel honored by my generosity."

Ted glared up at him, sweat slicking his face and body from the continuous torture over the past day and a half. His hair was damp, tears slicked trails down his cheeks. Dave had made a system for this punishment. He would come in, state his offer again, and take out the gag long enough for him to refuse. Then he would do something like this.

That first time he had just raped him then left. The next time when he came in, he used a flogger on him for his disobedience. The red welts on his body was tell-tale of that fact. He'd raped him again afterwards, taking perverse pleasure in digging his fingers into his swollen flesh. This time? He decided burning him was a suitable way to convince him to abandon his loyalty.

Ted watched helplessly as the candle was titled again, burning wax trickling along his quivering belly. The itchy substance was all over his chest. But Dave didn't stop there, he lowered the candle and tilted it, the flame touching along a line of wax. It bubbled, sizzling his flesh. Ted's tail twisted against he sheet, ears pinned back as he screamed again.

Scarlet-hot burns laced his body, Dave took his time to sear the wax into his flesh in ways that would later on scar.

//I've had worse than this// Ted mentally reasoned //Amir used to burn me with cigarettes for an hour at a time, relighting every couple of minutes. The lighters…the heroin…remember that…nothing can be worse than that. This is nothing.//

Dave sat back, letting the blonde settle into his pain. He was getting the results he wanted, but not the ones he needed. He decided to step up his game, pulling a small flip-knife from his sweats pocket. He had brought this just in case, and it seemed he'd be giving it a good test drive. He pressed the tip into the blonde's flesh, and with one sweeping arc he slit open the skin along his pec.

Ted groaned past his gag, the faint zipping of his own fleshing messing with his mind. Blood gushed down his pec, the half-moon cut leaking macabre tears that trailed down his sides in rivulets. Ted trued to suck it up, breathing the pain in and then letting it out as hard as he could. He calmed down, clawing back from the edge to get to get his Zen.

Ted cracked open his eyes, they widened suddenly in a horribly comical way when he saw the pillar candle start to tilt.

Sweltering wax was splashed into the open wound, getting him to really scream. Dave felt himself harden further, watching the boy positively squirm beneath him and cry in pain. And here he thought Ted couldn't get any prettier…those tears really did it for him. He reached out, roughly caressing those sensitive cat ears that had attracted him in the first place. Ted hissed in protest, a low cattish growl rumbled in his chest.

"Fighting only makes me hotter."

The candle was unceremoniously tossed to the floor, the blonde seized by his shoulder and flipped onto his belly. He cried out, his fresh wounds rubbing against sheet. With the heady scent of his own blood and overwhelming musk thick in the air around him, Ted found his thighs parted roughly before that too-familiar thickness brushed against him.

Ted bit down on his gag, bracing himself for another round. He could stay strong, he could do this.

His screams echoed throughout the room, so blood-curdling they even reached the cellar.


	19. Chapter 19

**Ok, this chapter is a little weird. It's going to have Ted's torture filling the gaps between Kozlov's torture scenes. It's kind of half and half, both happening at about the same time. It's been three days since Evan was first attacked, it's been about two since Punk and Ted were abducted.**

**VIOLENCE, people! VIOLENCE will be happening! Now that the rapes are pretty much over, it's time to kill some bitches!**

**

* * *

**

Mark, Cena, Edge, and Miz all left the hospital not an hour after they found out where Kozlov was that night. They poured into Mark's large car, a stylish son of a bitch with a big trunk. They drove out with intent, all armed secretly to aid them. And if what they had on their person wasn't enough, there was a black duffle bag at Adam's feet that held other goodies for their unlucky guest for the evening.

They found Kozlov at a shady bar just outside of Tampa.

Adam went in first, dark shades over his eyes. He scanned the bar, finding the Ukrainian sulking in the corner by himself. He quickly pulled his hair back into a low ponytail, pushing his collar up a bit, then headed over with his chosen weapon in hand. He slid onto the stool one down from Kozlov, not drawing any attention as he silently ordered a beer from the barkeep.

While Edge made himself comfortable with his beer, no one saw Cena slip inside. He immediately snagged one of the waitresses, flashing her his dimples and giving her his best line. She smiled and fluttered her eyelashes, and he slipped a hundred dollar bill in her pocket while he whispered a little something in her ear. Her smile turned from flirty to devious, nodding subtly before walking across the bar with her tray of beers balanced on her palm.

Cena slipped out again, unnoticed.

The pretty little waitress went over to one of the far tables, just on the other side of Kozlov and a bit further back. She made a big show of tripping on her heels, screaming loudly as she fell and spilled beer all over the patrons. They shouted in protest, making a big ruckus.

Kozlov turned and looked on cue, humanly curious.

Edge leaned over calmly, a small pill into the glass of whiskey. It instantly dissolved.

Kozlov turned around, peering down into his amber drink. He swirled the liquid, then downed it all in one go. He pulled a face, but took down the fire and all it's bitterness.

Edge swallowed down the rest of his beer, slapping down five bucks before sliding off the stool. He left without a bit of rush, shouldering open the door and slipping out. He nodded to the others in the car, he himself stopping just outside the door and leaning against the wall.

They didn't have to wait long before Kozlov came staggering out, clutching his head a bit. He was muttering to himself in Russian, dazed. Edge walked up behind him, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and leading him to the car.

"Here buddy, let me help you" Edge stated cheerily, hurrying the man to the open trunk. Kozlov started to fight him, the man was as strong as a bull, but the blonde easily shoved him sideways into the trunk. The bastard started shouting, protesting way too loudly for safety.

"Shhh" Edge faux-soothed, putting a finger to his lips "It's ok, shhhh. Shut up."

Edge delivered a swift punch, the force and the drug knocking the bastard out cold. The blonde all but whistled as he grabbed a set of handcuffs put in the back, locking the older man's thick wrists behind him in a painful position.

"Have fun while ya can, ya big lug" Edge drawled, slapping the man hard on the shoulder before slamming the trunk down. He locked it, officially trapping him.

"Ready?" Cena called, half hanging out of the front side door.

"All set" Adam pulled open the back door, glaring at the younger man he found sitting there "Move, kid, that's my seat."

Miz moved obediently, "I don't see why I couldn't have done that."

Mark started up the car, easily pulling out onto the dark street, "We use Edge for most of our dirty work, Michael. He's very good at what he does."

Cena nodded, "True facts, yo."

"You want to run the interrogation, boss?" Edge inquired.

Mark smirked, "Of course. I would trust no one else."

Edge smirked, leaning back into the seat, "Perfect."

"I'm the muscle I guess?" Cena offered, getting a nod "I'm down with that."

"And what am I supposed to do?" Miz glared at the blonde "Why the fuck do you get my revenge?"

"I'm only gonna break him, Mizzy" Edge crooned, ruffling the boy's hair arrogantly "Then he's all yours."

"Adam, behave" Mark stated, authority in his voice.

"Of course" Adam obeyed, his smile a little less condescending now "I'm going to get creatively violent, Mike. I need some room to work. But if you want to be in the room, you have to help. Got it?"

Mike nodded, knowing his place in the Court and what was expected of him. When he joined, he had no idea it would be this intense, but he was ok with this. He wanted to revenge, he wanted to get violent. He wanted to find the others, save them from the fate the others had suffered. But most of all? He wanted to break Kozlov, put a bullet in the man's skull and be done with this whole thing.

Then he wanted to take Jake and hide out somewhere for a few days, reacquaint himself with his favored.

So they drove, off to a little place more…secluded.

**xXxXxXx**

"Come on, boy, suck it up" Dave taunted the blonde beneath him, ruthlessly driving into his abused body "You need to learn how to handle a _real_ man."

Ted shook his head furiously, refusing the implication.

"You'll love being my sex puppet" Batista chuckled, stopping just as he was buried completely inside the younger man "Being broken isn't so bad. You'll stay in this room…forever mine."

The burn was excruciating, Ted felt his unprepared body stretch to his limit, //Oh God, let this stop…let him get bored…//

Dave dragged the boy to his knees, clicking the spreader bar and cuffs together again. Ted whimpered, head jerked back as the leash was manually tightened up to bind him on his knees again. The angle forced the Animal deeper, dried blood and pre-cum the only comforts he had. His muscles ached, pulled taunt for almost two days. The tingles that came from numbness had stopped hours ago, now it was all dead weight.

The pain started catching up to him, floodgates opening. Pressure swelled in his head, vision going hazy. He let out a low whine, eyes fluttering shut.

Ted started to fade…

**xXx**

Kozlov murmured to himself, stirring a bit as he started to wake up. His eyes popped open, the dull of the drug slowly fading from his body. With some flexing and touching, he realized he was sitting in a chair at a table…bent over it, arms stretched out along the surface.

The next thing he realized was that there was intense pain in his feet.

Kozlov screamed, sitting up swiftly. He braced his palm on the table, trying to get up, but the agony had flooded up his shins and all but paralyzed him. He looked around frantically, trying to figure out just where the hell he was. It was the living room of what appeared to be a run-down old cabin, the wood dark and rotting in most places. But the table he was at was sturdy enough, the chair almost new. There were no windows, just one door. A rat skittered in the corner, shattered plates and other random debris littered the floor. It was obvious no one lived here and he seemed to be alone, nothing made since.

Kozlov shuddered, flexing his feet only to yell out in pain. It was raw, sending his adrenaline rushing even though it was too late to stop it. He leaned over the chair, peering at his feet. He blanched at the sight, wishing he could look away but unable. Through his boots were two thick two-inch round nails, a wide head settled against he leather top to keep his feet from sliding off them. Blood seeped from beneath the metal heads, trickling down his shoes like honey.

They were impaled through his feet into the floor, keeping him in place.

A door behind him opened, four people coming out, but he didn't dare look.

Miz stayed behind, leaning against the wall to observe grumpily. Undertaker walked past him first, causing Kozlov to lower his eyes. The Phenom stood in front of the door menacingly, making it quite clear that the Ukrainian wasn't leaving anytime soon. Cena positioned himself just in Kozlov's peripheral vision, getting the older man to sweat.

Edge walked by him, stopping in front of the table with a big smile on his face, "Hey there, Koz. Hope your comfy, cause we've got business to discuss."

"Svat are you talking about? _Pany atiya ni im Eyu_" Kozlov rasped, grasping the edge of the table almost painfully "Vhat 'iz this? M-My feet…"

"Oh yeah, _those_" Edge waved that off "Well, we had to make sure you weren't gonna get up and leave, right? Not before we had a chance to chit-chat anyway."

The blonde's wide grin was bright in the house, the only electricity coming from a few lights set around the cabin. Battery powered, the Court came prepared with cube-shaped appliances with light bulbs in them, giving them a chance to see just what they were doing. Only three small ones, they didn't want their prey feeling too secure. They had found the cabin way out of town in the swamp lands, abandoned and far away from civilization.

"Vhat do you vant vith me?!" Kozlov barked "I've done nothing!"

Edge raised a brow, snapping his gum, "Nothing, huh? Beating Jake Hager in the head with a tire iron is nothing to you?"

Kozlov's lips thinned into a white line, saying nothing. Edge sighed, easily backhanding the man, who snarled at the offensive gesture.

"When I ask you a question, you answer" Edge commanded, getting a glower "We have proof that you did it, we've got video evidence, bitch. Now I'll say it again…was bashing Jake's head in nothing to you?"

Kozlov scoffed through the pain, " 'Tis nothing."

"He's a boy, a mere child in most eyes."

The Russian scowled, " 'Ee needs to be broken."

Cena stepped forward but was stopped when the blonde raised his hand, signaling him to wait.

"We want something from you, Kozlov" Edge leaned forward on the other side of the table, palms braced on the surface "Names and locations."

"Of who?" he countered.

"Of all the conspiring bastards in your group! Everyone who was involved!" Edge snarled, slamming his hands down again "Tell me where they are, you have no reason to protect them! You owe them _nothing_."

"I am no rat" Kozlov replied determinedly, glaring the blonde down as best he could "Vhy should _I_ tell _you_ anything?"

Edge nodded to his friend, who stepped up behind Kozlov, "Because you've gotten yourself caught, _Oleg_. And that sounds pretty rattish to me."

Kozlov growled something in Russian as his arm was seized by Cena, forced outward. He struggled, trying to yank it back to himself, only to scream out. John had grabbed his forearm and bicep in his meaty hands, bracing his thumbs on either side of his elbow, pulling them back opposite of it's natural function.

A sick, wet snap echoed throughout the room. Bone, tendons, joints, tissue…all crackled under the force. It didn't sever the limb, just crushed it on the inside to a squishy pulp. Kozlov managed to grunt and scream, clutching his arm to his body once the other let him go.

"Kane, Lay-vield, Angle, Styles, Raven, Hunter" Kozlov grinded out brokenly, then spat a whole sling foreign words before settling on "_Bau-tista_."

Mark tensed, eyes narrowed at the man.

"What was that?" Edge asked, scowling when the man's head dropped until his chin touched his chest. He went over and grabbed a water bottle from the black duffle bag, uncapping it quickly and splashing it in the Russian's face. Kozlov sputtered, Edge picked his head up and made him look at him.

"What did you say about Batista?" Edge looked into his eyes, then gave him a good shake "Speak!"

**xXx**

Dave realized the boy had passed out on him, the pain had gotten to him. With a frustrated growl, Dave started removing the cuffs and spreader bar. He laid the gear aside, next unclipping his leash. Leaving only the collar around his neck, he dragged the boy out of the bed and onto his feet by a grip on the back of his neck.

Only semiconscious, Ted mewled in protest and staggered.

Dave shouldered open the door to the bathroom, yanking him inside. The blonde could barely hold his own weight, so the bigger man had to shift his hold to his arm just to keep him on his feet. Dave made quick work of the task, throwing open the shower cubicle and twisting the cold water knob fully. He grinned at the iciness of it, moving so he could shove the boy under the spray.

Cold washed over Ted, bringing him around quickly. He yelped at the singing sensation, struggling a bit but found himself held firm by the Animal. His ears pined flat against his head, tail curling up as his body tried to draw in on itself. A wet smack to his cheek brought him around, head tilted back by the same hand so the freezing water struck his face. He sputtered, spitting out water and forcing his head away. Gasping, he tried to push himself against the wall.

"Wake up, you filthy whore."

"No man's whore…" Ted stated, wincing at the raw sensation around his mouth. Small, bloody, whisker-like slits showed along his cheek and jaw, cut by the edges and force of the ball-gag. A large palm roamed over his body, scraping away the wax that clung to him painfully. Blood and sweat ran off his skin in streaks, it had accumulated to a vulgar amount over the past few days.

Dave dropped him suddenly, scaring the blonde. Ted dropped to his knees, giving a little cry as the rough floor bit into his skin. After a few moments, he dared to look up at his Court's betrayer.

"Clean yourself off, pussy. I've got shit to do."

Ted sighed in relief as he was left alone, the shower door slamming shut after the older man. He grabbed at the wall, slowly getting to his feet. His hand dropped to the hot knob, adjusting it to his liking, then turning down the cold. He moaned in relief at the amazing sensation, tilting his head back as his muscles turned to jelly. After so long, nothing felt so good.

He reached for a bar of soap, hoping to gain some comfort before Dave returned.

**xXx**

"He is not your friend" Kozlov rumbled "He is your betrayer."

"You better back that up" Cena demanded, not-so-shocked at this.

"Kane came up with idea, we just came" Kozlov struggled with the words, head throbbing and body fighting not to go into shock "_Bau-tista_ told us vhere you would be, vhere to find 'zem. He helped us get 'zem alone."

Edge tightened his grip, then shoved the man back into his seat. Kozlov yelped, legs protesting any movement.

Cena shot his leader a horrified look, "I know it. I fuckin' knew it! I told you Dave was nothing good, he tried to _rape_ Ted."

His own words shocked some realization into the man, he whipped his head towards the Russian, "Does Dave have Ted?"

Kozlov groaned in pain, refusing to talk anymore. John gave a primal growl, yanking a crowbar out of the black duffle they'd brought. He got in the Russian's face, cerulean eyes all but glowing.

"Does Batista have him?"

Nothing.

John looked toward their youngest member, "Come 'ere, Mike. Hold down his hand."

Kozlov tried to fight, it was almost a pathetic effort with how easily Miz grabbed his uninjured hand and slammed it on the table. It flexed wildly, the bulky man trembling as his body was put under extreme strain. Miz had no mercy in his heart, he held the older man's hand down by his wrist to keep out of the way of what John wanted to do.

Kozlov barked out something in Russian, meaning nothing to their ears.

"You ain't listen', jackass!" John hissed "Where's my boy at!? Where'd Kane take Phil!? Are they together?!"

"_Ya ne znayu_!" Kozlov yelled, pulling at his hand weakly.

"Did Batista take Ted?"

Kozlov swallowed thickly, shaking his head before grinding out, "_Yes_! Yes, he took him!"

Cena was puffed out like a wild animal, enraged, "Where?"

"Don't know."

"Wrong answer!"

Adam panicked for a moment, "John-!"

John slammed the crowbar down upon the man's fingers, not once but twice. He struck him just right to get screams, with the perfect amount of pressure to bust and swell his fingers. Kozlov cried out hoarsely, tugging at his hand, but Miz held fast.

"I don't know anything more than that! I svear to you! _Ya ne znayu!_"

"Somehow I don't fuckin' believe you!" John went to lunge again, but Mark caught him under the arms and dragged him back.

"We need him for a bit longer, John" Mark made himself very clear, so John settled down a bit "Save your anger for Batista…where it's needed."

"I'm going to destroy him" John turned, glaring up at his leader "For every mark he leaves on my Teddy… I'm going to _slice_ him _open_ like the animal he is."

Mark nodded, "And you will…_in time_."

Edge gracefully sat himself on the table, watching three of Kozlov's fingertips swell and discolor. He'd seen wounds like this before, he'd inflicted ones just like it dozens of time. He knew just what to do to get that last bit of info out of him. The blonde pulled out a needle, showing it to the heavily panting Russian.

"You look kind of swollen there" Edge tisked, holding out the needle "Master 'Taker…if you'd do the honor?"

Mark left Cena to fume quietly, stepping up and brandishing a lighter, "Of course."

Kozlov watched in horror as Mark lit it, heating the end of the needle with just the end of the flame…the hottest point. It turned black, smoked a bit, showing it was heating up. The stocky man shook his head, mouthing 'no' silently over and over. It was pathetic, almost pitiful…_almost_.

Edge's lips turned up in a smile, "Who knows where Kane and Batista are?"

"_Ya ne znayu_"

"Wrong!" the blonde hissed, striking the heel of his palm down upon the back of the man's hand to keep it in place. Holding it down, along with Mike's strength, he drove the needle through the discolored fingernail of the one of the swollen fingers. Kozlov howled in agony, desperately trying to yank his arm back with what little strength he had left. The fingernail gave way, charring, the needle made a hole into the grave infection that had already set in. Clear fluid and blood alike poured from the puncture wound, pus.

"I do not know! _Ni znaju_!"

"Can't hear you" Edge stated in a sing-song fashion, driving the needle down into another swollen finger. Again the results were the same, except for one thing.

"But Lay-vield would!" Kozlov wailed brokenly "He vould know! He paid Kane, gave us all money! He vould know vhere they are!"

"Bradshaw" Edge scowled, sliding off the table "Of course that inflated pig would know. Shawn's going to have a field day tracking him down."

Mark smirked, "Oh, Shawn will get the location out of him just fine…he's a vicious thing."

Cena nodded in agreement, smirking at the thought of what the Heartbreak Kid was going to do to the pompous ass. Edge and him stepped away from the table, giving plenty of space. Mark nodded toward Miz, the kid pushed away from the wall and pulled out the gun he'd been given in one graceful movement. He clicked off the safety, stepping up behind the dry-sobbing Russian.

Kozlov froze when he felt the cool barrel of a gun being pressed to the base of his neck.

"_Ne boysa_" came a husky whisper "You're only getting what you deserve."

Kozlov grit his teeth, "I did not…touch him…"

"You almost killed him" Mike cocked back the hammer, ice blue eyes cold as he glared down at the man "I'm going to give you a taste of what would've been his life if he weren't so strong."

Kozlov shut his eyes, a heavy weight in his chest, "I am not afraid of death."

"Your punishment will not be to die…" Miz leaned down, all but whispering in his ear "…but to _live_."

Mike pulled away, taking the gun from the man's neck and letting it hover his skin. He lowered it, letting it rest above the spine between his massive shoulder blades.

At the last second, he moved it left just a bit…

**xXxXxXx**

Dave went downstairs, heading toward the kitchen. He found Kane sitting there at the kitchen table, a quarter empty bottle of Jack Daniels before him. He had just slammed down the shot glass, hissing at the sharp taste.

"Care if I grab a bite?" Dave asks, the other shrugged. He went to the fridge, getting out some things to make a sandwich. His stomach had been growling for a while now, he hadn't noticed it until he'd gotten off. Ted was just too much fun, he'd never felt more alive than when he was making that ass cherry-red with a flogger or pouring wax into his fresh wounds.

"I've got something here I think you'll be interested in" Kane gestured to the file on the table, a smirk twisting his lips.

"What is it?" Dave asked, building his sandwich.

"Oh, just a few police reports, some eye witness accounts…some pretty pictures" the older man replied "I've already gone through it. It's a good read."

Dave nodded, digging into his food eagerly, "Who's it about?"

"Your precious pussy."

This sparked Dave's interest, he carried his sandwich over to the kitchen table. He sat down, pulling the file toward him. He flipped it open, glancing through, a twinkle coming to his dark eyes. He got more into it, flipping through the reports and eyes lingering on some compromising pictures.

Kane got up, taking a last shot down and stating breathlessly, "I'm gonna go lock up the kitten before he gets it in his head to leave."

"Yeah, thanks man" Dave didn't look up, he was riveted.

Kane left, letting the man catch up on his reading.

**xXx**

Ted was out of the shower, still naked and now in front of the sink. He had the faucet running on cold, bending down over the basin and licking at the stream of water. His tail flicked behind him in mild content, ears twitching a bit as a slight mist tickled them. He soothed his thirst, eyes closed as his quick tongue slurped up as much water as it could.

The door swung open, startling the boy. He jumped away from the sink, whipping around to see Kane barging in. His ears pinned back, fangs bared in pure feline instinct.

"Calm down, boy, I'm just here to lock you back up" Kane looked menacing in the harsh bathroom light, scaring the blonde more "Fight me and I'll make it hurt."

"Like hell I won't fight" Ted spat, backing up until he smacked against the wall. His hand came up on instinct, curling around the dog tags that still hung around his neck. He thought of nothing of his master, even as those strong hands seized him by the collar and waist. He wriggled, kicking out, catching the doorframe and knocking the bigger man into the door.

Kane growled, wrestling the blonde across the room. When it was made clear he wasn't going to go back into his restraints willingly, the monster punched Ted square in the jaw. Reeling from the blow, Ted could only fight a bit as he was wrangled back into his bindings. Thankfully, Kane didn't re-hook the leash or that horrible strap that connected the shin and wrist cuffs. He shuddered as the man locked the spreader bar back into place, heavy knuckles brushing along his inner thighs.

Ted clenched his eyes shut tight, letting his mind go far away until the man left.

When he finally opened his eyes, it was over.

Ted was left on the bed, on his belly but still bound. The bed was sticky with drying blood and sweat,

reeking of Batista's pheromones and his own naked fear. He had no choice but to lie there, in pain and alone, but thankfully showered. His limbs didn't feel quite so dead, he could even rationalize his thoughts again. No longer was he drifting in vertigo. Batista's effort to torture him longer had actually helped him, giving him some new energy to fight this torture.

The Court was closer to finding them, he could feel it in his heart.

//A little longer…just hold out for a bit longer.//

Ted managed to sleep, a dreamless doze where he could get some peace.

* * *

**Intense? I kind of thought so. It sounded more dramatic in my head. Just to show how much this doesn't bug them, Batista grabs a SANDWICH between bouts of torturing Ted! Punk is in the basement nearly freezing to death, and Kane's drinking! How fucked up are these guys!?**

**Here's the translations for some of the stuff I used, I got them from the filtered internet at school…so **_**maybe**_** they're right.**

**ne boysa** = _do not be afraid_  
**ya ne znayu/ni znaju** =_ I don't know_  
**Pany atiya ni im Eyu** = _I have no idea_


	20. Chapter 20

**I'm giving the boys a few days in the hospital to recover, so they'll probably end up staying there at least five days. This is day three.**

**

* * *

**

_The next morning…_

A man was delivered to a large hospital in Orlando on request of his family. His name was Oleg Prudius, also known as Kozlov in the WWE industry. The doctors examined him, finding evidence of torture and a bullet hole close to his spine. They tried to collect trace, but there was nothing to be found. They also tried to remove the bullet, but they reasoned that they couldn't without killing him.

Oh yes, he was alive. The bullet wound had left him with only the functions for life, giving him his sight and hearing as well. Unfortunately it robbed him of his movement and speech, leaving him unable to affect the world around him. The horrible results of his 'attack' were permanent, they couldn't do anything for him but make him comfortable.

They contacted his boss, telling him he'd need to be relieved of his contract because of his paralyses.

**xXxXxXx**

Cody was curled up on his side on the hospital bed, sleeping soundly in his single room. Randy had brought him pajamas to make him feel as comfortable as possible, soft baggy ones that hid his form. He was all but drowning in them, long sleeves billowing over his hands with how long they are. His belly had some stitches, just two lines of them, and they were healing nicely.

The fresh, reddish morning light crept slowly over his bed, just touching his bare feet.

Cody started stirring a bit, eyelashes fluttering briefly against his cheeks before his eyes cracked open. Dark cerulean treasures were revealed, unfocused and sleepy. Immediately, his hand came up and touched the top of his stomach. He was feeling kind of hollow since the surgery, but it needed to be that way. There was no way around it, he had to get that dead thing out of him.

//It could've been my son// Cody thought bitterly, but brushed it aside.

With this death came the opportunity of great life. Dr. Collins had told him when he was last in here that without the proper vitamins, the proper care…that baby had a 70% chance of being still-born or it's heart just never developing at all. Male pregnancies were very sensitive, he was told that he needed lots of pre-natal care to make sure it all ran smoothly.

Someone eased into the bed behind him, but he wasn't scared. He breathed in deeply, giving a soft moan when he caught his master's scent. A wide palm and long fingers climbed over his hip, blanketing his own hand on his belly. Lips brushed his temple, then his shoulder.

"How's my sweet boy doing?" Randy inquired lovingly, rubbing his cheek along his shoulder like a cat scenting his mate. Cody purred at the sensation, pushing back into him.

" 'M fine" Cody replied, voice just a whisper " 'M getting better."

"You ok with the morphine?" Randy ran his thumb over his sub's hand, dropping another kiss on his shoulder "You want me to come adjust them?"

Cody shook his head, "It's good. Anymore and I won't wake up."

Randy smiled at this, "My tough boy."

Cody hummed in content as the man cradled his body easily, "Love you, Master."

"I love you too, Coddles" Randy teased lightly, getting a little happy whine from his boy "Are you hungry, my sweet?"

"Thirsty" Cody replied simply.

Randy leaned up, dropping a kiss just below his jaw, "Ok, baby, I'll be right back with some orange juice."

Cody's lips pulled back from his teeth in a sweet smile, showing his teeth. He loved OJ, his master knew this. He loved it maybe more than milk. He hated that Randy got up to leave, but he knew he'd be back.

Until he came back, Cody would just let himself slip into a catnap.

**xXx**

All the subs in the room held their breath, waiting for the reaction. Morrison was peering into the compact he'd stolen from the nurse, examining his features for the first time in days. He tilted his head to one side, then the other. He made sure he got every angle, puckering his lips a bit.

"It's…" John sighed, giving up "It's not so bad. It could be a lot worse, I suppose. It kind of gives me that bad-boy edge, don't you think?"

The others nodded eagerly, not wanting to upset him.

"Yeah, it'll be fine" John tossed the compact aside carelessly, letting it crack off the floor "I'm damn sexy no matter what."

"True" Jay agreed, glad that the younger man had calmed down.

Jeff sat up in his bed, daring to really stretch for the first time. His stitches held, but he winced when his shoulder blade popped.

Evan sat up, yawning widely. He looked around, blinking a bit like he wasn't sure where he was, before he spotted Jake sitting up and awake. He smiled brightly, still flushed and a little woozy, but managed to get out of bed. Christian tried to protest, but the small ravenette was determined.

"Hey, Ev, careful" Jake tried to warn as the younger man crawled into his bed, curling around his form. He squirmed a little, protesting about agitating his fever, but only got a small yawn in reply. It was so cute, even with Morrison snickering at him from across the room. Jake sighed, wrapping his thick arms around his friend in a way of surrender.

"Glad you're ok" Evan mumbled, burying his face in the blonde's belly.

"You too, Ev" Jake replied softly, cradling him close. A thought hit him right out of the blue. He hadn't been awake very long; he had taken a long nap not long after he'd shaken off his coma, so he'd only been filled in on the main things going on.

"Guys…" Jake began, brow knit "Where's Ted?"

Jay gave a little sigh, "I got a text from Adam, guys…we've been betrayed."

They all paled, hoping desperately it wasn't one of their masters.

"W-Who?" Evan whispered.

"Batista."

There was a long pause before Morrison snarled, "That _bastard_! How _dare_ he?!"

"I knew he couldn't be trusted" Jeff scoffed, sitting cross-legged on his bed "He practically drooled on Ted during our meetings."

Jay nodded, "I stayed the night with Ted once…John came home with Randy and Cody. Codes came in with us, but we still could John ranting about Batista. Randy was the only person he'd talk to about hating him, he didn't want to upset 'Taker. Now this…I should've known no one could hurt Teddy but that asshole."

Jeff brought his hand up to his mouth, putting one of his colored nails between his lips, "I'm worried about Punk."

He got strange looks for this, Jake was the one to speak up, "Don't you two hate ea-thother?"

Jeff flushed a bit in shame, "Maybe I've picked a few fights…but he's being hurt, you guys…I'm not heartless, ya know."

"I'm scared for him too" John admitted lowly.

"I'm not."

Jeff gaped at his best friend, the blonde Canadian merely raised a brow at him, "What?"

"You jerk" Jeff spat, disgust in his eyes.

"Oh come on, guys" Jay looked around at his friends, seeing the surprise there on their faces "Phil is wiser and stronger than all of us put together! He's not going to let some asshole like Kane fuck with his head. Sure, he might get fucked up physically, but his mind's going to be fine. Undertaker wouldn't pick a weak mate, Phil is his other half. I've never seen a man handle himself the way Phil does! You guys can't be worried about him, he's the one out of all of us who can walk away unscathed."

John scowled at this, "No one comes away from this shit unscathed, Jay. You should know that. As fucking strong as you are…aren't you torn up inside?"

Jay went quiet, dropping his eyes to the floor. Pain passed over his face, but he quickly schooled his features into indifference.

"I'm fine."

"You're really not" Jeff stated knowingly "None of us are, Jay-Jay."

The blonde smiled at the stupid nickname, "I'll _be_ fine."

"I'm only going to be fine once Shawn kills those bastards" John huffed, fingertips dancing over the stitches wound along his abdomen "Every last one of them…slowly and painfully."

"Wait, _kill_?" Jake's mouth fell open "They're going to _kill_ people?!"

"Shh" Evan sat up, putting a hand over Jake's mouth. The blonde had this innocent, wide-eyed look on his face, like he'd never heard of such a thing. He was a corn-fed hometown boy; he'd never seen murder in his life. But Evan was not as naïve as most thought him to be, he knew what had happened to him warranted death.

"It's not our place to question our masters" Evan stated softly, hand clamped tight on the blonde's mouth "Matters not discussed in front of us _do not__concern_ us. Do you understand?"

Jake nodded.

"You weren't raped, Jake" Evan's eyes had a haunted look to them, cheeks flushed from the fever "You were attacked…but you weren't violated on the level the rest of us where. We _all_ want to see these men burn for what they've done. The masters are leaving us out of it so we won't be implicated, they don't want our hands dirty. Chris told me we're to stay here and not question about what's going on outside this room."

Jake nodded once more, fear in his heart. Evan sighed, knowing he'd gotten his point across. He snuggled back into the larger man, glad that he was safe and he now understood what was going to happen. Jake looked to the others, confirming what Evan had said just by the looks on their faces.

"Evan's right" Jeff smirked, a bittersweet expression "I wouldn't mind seeing Raven squirm for trying to break me. He thought he could shatter my heart and my mind…he was so wrong."

"Yeah, because physically wasn't enough" John scoffed, fingers still dancing along his stitched skin.

"Stop touching them" Christian scolded "You don't want them to get infected, do you?"

John pulled a mocking face, but dropped his hand.

Little did they know that Punk's will was being tested.

**xXxXxXx**

Dehydration had set in, Phil's stomach was all but eating itself after three days. The chains had retracted about an hour ago, keeping his arms locked against he wall and above his head. The cold had sapped his strength, his blood slugging through his veins. He'd fallen into a vertigo stupor who knows how long ago, his mind couldn't process time when nothing changed in this Godforsaken room.

Punk's head hung forward limply, chin against his chest, barely awake. He didn't see the door open, and he didn't hear the footsteps of his own personal Satan descending into the cellar.

Phil whined when a heavy hand threaded through his hair, picking his head up. He couldn't open his eyes, he couldn't even lift his head on his own let alone fight. The rim of a cup was put to his lips, liquid brushing against them. He moaned in relief, opening his mouth to accept the drink. He gulped it down greedily, only realizing after three mouthfuls what it was.

Phil choked and spurt, the clear drink spilling over his lips. He tried to suck in a breath halfway through, coughing out foam as the strong bitter liquid frothed briefly in his lungs.

Kane watched the younger man gasp for breath, almost drowning in the vodka he'd forced down his throat. He had a half-full bottle in his hand, a tumbler in the other. It was empty now, so he tossed it away. It shattered against the wall, tinkling and piling on the floor.

Phil glared up at him once he'd found a bit of composure, "You son of a bitch."

Breathless and raspy, his voice wasn't very threatening.

"Aren't you thirsty, Phillip?" Kane taunted, shaking the bottle mockingly.

"Bastard" Phil wheezed, breathing rough.

Kane tilted the bottle toward the ravenette again, but he turned his head away, "Drink."

"Fuck you" Phil sneered, stomach churning "Is that vodka? You're a fucking monster, ya know that?"

"You're not hearing me, baby" Kane knelt down, getting right in the younger man's face "Open up and swallow down everything I have to give you. If you finish it all…you'll get some water."

Phil's lower lip trembled, "I-I'll die down here."

"Maybe" The older man wet his own lips, drinking in the unadulterated anxiety pouring off the punk "Drink up the rest of this and I'll give you water."

"W-What?"

"You heard me, boy" Kane's lips stretched back, exposing his canines "Drink it all and I'll let you live."

Tears built in Phil's eyes, both from hopelessness of the situation and the burn of the 80-proof vodka. He sniffled loudly, skin prickled and chilled from the cellar's unforgiving climate. He mouthed a silent prayer for strength and redemption, wishing desperately he could fade from this place and be back with his master. The thought of his loving Mark made his heart ache. His strong arms…his rumbling voice…the way Mark would wake up early and spend long minutes just gazing at him, caressing the line of his spine like he was some sort of precious prize. The Undertaker's chosen, his treasured pet. That had become his identity these past few years. It was his identity, his favorite thing to be. No one could take that from him. Mark worked his way into every aspect of his life, even meeting his parents and helping to support them. He had begged him off, saying he didn't need to be so generous but Mark had insisted on it.

Before Mark had came along, his life was defined by his Straightedge style. This was who he was…but what was a lifestyle without a life?

Punk opened his mouth obediently, his eyes shut. The bottle was slipped past his parted lips, bitter liquid pouring down his throat perversely. The phallic nature wasn't lost on him, and he fought to swallow it down as quickly as he could. It was a teasingly horrible thing, both taking the edge off his thirst and rousing his appetite for actual water. He knew it was leaching the last of the water from his body, destroying his insides, poisoning his organs and his very bloodstream.

Kane made sure he swallowed every last drop, getting off on the sight of those pretty pink lips wrapped around the bottle's girth. Once it was all gone, he tossed the empty bottle to shatter and mingle with the forgotten tumbler. He reached back, scooting the bucket he'd brought with him closer. He tilted it, the closed water bottle inside rolling out to settle on the mattress.

Punk gagged loudly, then clamped his lips together so he wouldn't give into his nauseas. It was like pure acid in his belly, destroying him, killing him slowly. The tremble of his lower lip caught Kane's attention once more, he reached out and cupped the ravenette's chin. He thumbed at the silver hoop there, enjoying the whine he got. He suddenly clamped his large palm down over Phil's mouth, fingertips digging into the flesh so hard it broke blood vessels. The bound man's head was forced back, eyes popping open wide as those rough fingertips dug into his flesh. It was painful, taking his mind a bit off his nausea.

"I'm the one who gives you life here" Kane growled "My brother can't touch you now. You're mine. Get used to it, my little punk."

Phil closed his eyes against it, the man's lips brushing against his. He refused to respond, he just had to wait until Kane got frustrated with his lack of participation. He let his head drop when his jaw was finally released, he found feel the bruises forming.

There was a thump of the bucket being set down, then more footsteps. Only when he was sure Kane was gone did Phil dare to open his eyes, adjusting to those darkness. He was panting thickly, fighting to keep the contents of his stomach down. The vodka had seared his throat, leaving him feeling sick and run down. He could feel his very soul cracking, threatening to break.

The chains went limp, the hold loosening so they fell in coils on the floor. Punk immediately grabbed the trashcan, emptying his stomach contents. He didn't have much, but thankfully most of the alcohol came back up. It burned worse coming up, tears spilling down his face as his stomach clenched in mighty heaves.

Agonizing minutes went by, everything leaving him.

When it was done, when there was nothing left, he shoved the trash can far from him. He wiped at his mouth with the back of his hand, panting wildly as he tried to catch his breath. He grabbed at the water bottle, twisting off the cap before clamping his lips down on it. He swallowed down a bit, just enough to soothe his throat, knowing that if he chugged he'd just throw it back up.

Once Punk had settled down his thirst, he set it aside and sucked in a huge breath.

"You're going to die for this!" Punk screamed, knowing Kane could hear him "Mark's going to put a bullet in your God-damn head! None of you will escape!"

Punk gulped down another mouthful, moaning in relief.

* * *

**Ok, I've got to warn you guys. I've been watching **_**Queer as Folk**_** (which I f-ing love, by the way, it's my crack). And I realize I've made my subs a little too…damsel-in-distress. If that offends people, sorry and stuff. These men are **_**men**_**…but I'm a teenage girl, I don't know **_**shit**_**, ok? So if my writing style gets a little different, it's because I'm trying to 'man' these guys up. Cause even on QaF, they aren't push-over fags. **


	21. Chapter 21

**This chapter is pretty short, but it's only because I couldn't think of what else to put. I wanted to jump to the next day in the middle, so I just cut it off.**

**This is also for everyone who was all, "Punk is getting off easy!" Ok, I'm hearing you. And as a fanficiton writer, I take all reviews to heart, and put them into text so everyone is pleased. **

**I hope you enjoy the last scene, it was inspired by **_**Fight Club**_**.**

*LINE*

"Dave?" Shawn spat "Are you fucking serious?"

John sat back in the hospital chair, hat pulled low down over his eyes, "I don't know why everyone is actin' so God-damned surprised about this…"

"It's _Dave_, John, that's why" Jericho snapped, but his heart was telling him he'd known this.

"I told you he'd be nothing but trouble" Randy scowled, directing his comment at their leader "I told you he was full of nothing but lies."

As one of his favorite, Undertaker let that slide.

"He's dug his own grave" Matt drawled " 'ah for one have no mercy on him."

"I'd like to think we've all lost our taste for Batista" Edge stated coldly "But too bad for us…Cena's the one who gets the honor of putting a fucking bullet in his brain."

John smirked at this, the thought of revenge hardening his heart.

" 'ah can't believe he stole Ted like he did" Matt pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closing as he tried to fight off the images "That poor boy…"

Shawn stood up with a huff, "Well, looks like it's up to me –_again_."

"Up to you to what?" Chris inquired.

"Weren't you listening, Chrissy-boy?" Shawn tisked "Bradshaw's the one who will know where all the rest are. It's up to me to get the locations out of him. Then –one by one- we can all have our revenge."

Miz chewed his lower lip in thought, "This will take out a good portion of the roster."

"There'll be others" Undertaker stated grimly "There'll always be others to replace the ones that get…_lost_."

Randy resisted the urge to snicker, "Fresh blood is always good for the industry."

"True" Cena chimed in.

Mark tilted his head toward his right hand, "Are you going to be ok standing by while Hunter is slaughtered?"

A dark glint came to Randy's eyes at the thought of what he wanted to do to that man, but all turned their eyes to Shawn to seek his approval. Hunter had been his best friend for many years, the whole DX thing had been his life. HBK looked hesitant for a moment, then shook his head.

"Kill 'em" Shawn stated solemnly "Anyone who could kill a baby…" he paused, closing his eyes briefly "Do what you have to, Randy."

"I will" the younger man replied smugly.

Shawn looked around at the Court, question in his eyes, "I hope everyone's has hashed out their plans. I'm gonna need some help on mine."

"No problem" Chris waved it off "We're going to need each other if we're going to get away with this."

There was dark gleam in Mark's eyes, "Of course we're going to get away with it. It's our right. They started this…they all but signed their own death certificate."

The rest of the Court agreed.

There was a knock on the door, an accented voice drifted in, "I'm sorry to disturb you. I need to speak with Mr. Irvine…it's about Evan."

Chris sprung up, striding over to the door. He threw it open, surprised to find Dr. Chase standing there. The doctor crooked a finger at him, indicating that he was to follow. Chris shut the door behind him, obediently following his pet's doctor further down the hall to where the sub's room was. They stopped in front of it, the wrestler peering inside to find Evan standing in the middle of the room, Jay by his side ready to catch him to his knees were to go weak.

Evan was actually smiling, his cheeks flushed a healthier shade of red.

"It's a recovery if I've ever seen one" Chase smiled, flipping through his file "He's more lucid, he's not having nightmares anymore. He stopped vomiting a few hours ago, he can keep down all the water he drinks. His vitals are settling nicely. His fever has gone down, it's still bouncing around one hundred…but there for a while I was afraid of neurological problems. His brain was close to boiling."

Chris winced at the choice of words, getting an apologetic look from the younger man, "But he's ok?"

"He'll be fine" Chase clarified, relief in his eyes "I'd dare to say he'll be better in a week. Evan's a strong boy, he fought this disease like no one I've ever seen."

Chris sighed in relief, "Thank God."

"I have to ask…" the doctor closed the folder, a crease in his brow "Do you know who did this?"

A dark gleam came to the master's eyes, "Yeah, actually."

Chase chewed at his lower lip, afraid to ask, "Are you absolutely _sure_ you don't want me to report this guy to the police?"

Chris turned to look at the younger man, making him shudder under his white coat, "It's fine, Dr. Chase. It'll be taken care of."

The Australian nodded, he didn't want to ask too many questions. His supervisor had warned him that this group was different, that they handled things their own way. From what he'd heard from the rumors floating about the hospital, they'd had a wild week with the Court. Five violent assaults, four rapes, two abductions with possible rape, one lost child…and no police report.

These men, these older men, seemed to be very protective of their boys.

Inside, Evan was smiling and sighing in relief. His friends gazed at him expectantly, waiting to hear it.

"I feel…better" he whispered honestly.

Smiles came to their faces, Jay's arms circling around his waist, "Good, now let's get you back into bed…"

**xXxXxXx**

Ted awoke suddenly, yowling as nails scored down his back. He arched, waking to find himself strapped up again with his upper body up off the bed. He could feel Batista close up behind him, right in his personal space, snickering at his discomfort. The blonde went to mouth off, but found that damn ball gag locking his jaw again.

"Wake up, my sweet little kitty" Batista growled in his ear "I wanna play some more."

Ted growled from behind the gag, wriggling weakly against the assault. Rough hands roamed over his abused body, seeming to find the edges of all his scars. Dave pulled back, running his fingers along the blonde's forearms to trace the faint track marks there. Ted tensed, eyes going wide as he realized the man knew just where to touch to bring up horrible memories of his past.

"I read up on you, Teddy-bear" Dave purred silkily "I know all about your little year-stint as a whore. Doing drugs? Wrapped up in murder? Tsk-tsk, that's not the vanilla southern pussy I've watched flourish the past couple of years."

Ted screwed his eyes shut, refusing to respond.

"Now I know why you don't screech and howl like all good pussies should" Batista leaned down, brushing his lips along the back of the blonde's neck "You're just used to it, aren't you Teddy-bear? Used to having men use you up like the filthy fucking whore you are…"

Ted twisted his hands around, clawing at what he could. Batista hissed, drawing back and peering down at his abs. A half dozen bloody lines had been carved into his skin, Ted's shining razor-like nails stained crimson from the attack.

"You might wanna retract those claws, bitch" Batista's lip curled up in a snarl "I'm being damn giving here. I can keep you here forever and no one will find you…eventually you'll break. But you keep causing me this trouble and I'll take my whip to you."

Ted hissed, the man's meaty hand fisting in his hair and yanking his head back, "And I swear to you, it's nowhere as near as gentle as that little flogger."

Ted shuddered as a slick tongue made it's way up his neck, arching away as his teeth bit down. How the fuck did this guy know what he did? What he'd been through? Who the hell had told him?!

"Too bad your little brother didn't leave" Batista hissed into his ear "I'd love a set."

The blonde's eyes popped open, afraid he seriously knew about him.

"Come on, don't you remember little Brett?" Batista teased mercilessly, roughly petting through his flaxen locks "Or have you already forgotten about him in your new life? He never had anything but a pathetic excuse for a brother…and now you have it tall? How the fuck is that fair, Teddy? Why did you end up with the whole world at your fingertips and he ended up with a bullet in his _neck_?"

Ted cried out around the gag, the man yanking harshly on his hair once more. Tears streamed thickly down his cheeks, he couldn't stop them. He was right…Batista was right about it all. He was a selfish brother, the moment Brett died he should've eaten a gun to join him in the afterlife. He should've just killed himself right then! Why did he have to fight so much? Why did he have to be such a stubborn ass?

//Bretty…// Ted hung his head in shame, as much as the leash would allow anyways //I'm so sorry…I don't deserve any of this. I don't deserve John. You couldn't even rely on your big brother! Why should I have someone so sweet for myself?//

Batista could feel the boy cracking in his hands, and he loved it.

**xXxXxXx**

It could've been a day later, or maybe just hours, Punk wasn't sure when he next heard the basement door open. The Straightedge was fast asleep, sprawled out on the mattress as he sunk himself in a dreamless sleep. The sleep of the dead, some would even dare call it. But he still breathed, he still lived.

No thanks to his captor.

Kane descended the stairs slowly, a jug of white powder in one hand and a smaller container of liquid in the other. Thick ebony gloves covered his hands, going midway up his forearms. He looked at his new, sleeping pet, a grin curling his lips. He stalked over to his prisoner, cocking his head down at him as he contemplated how this would go down. He knew he could hold him down easily, so he didn't worry much about it.

Kane set the container of liquid on the floor, out of the way but in reach. Knowing it'd be easy from here on out, he drew back his foot. With a hard grunt, he struck the man in the ribs.

Punk awoke with a groan of pain, instinctively curling up on himself. Another solid kick made him roll onto his belly, face twisted up in agony. A solid foot came down on the back of his neck, pinning him down with crushing force. He did the math in his head as he gasped for breath, Kane had more than a hundred pounds on him and almost eight inches of height.

Phil struggled anyways, even if it was rather useless.

"What do you want?!" Punk roared breathlessly, the cuffs heavy on his wrists but he clawed at the mattress anyways.

"Your obedience" Kane demanded "If you give to me now, this could all stop."

"Fuck you!" Punk spat, trying to push himself up but grunting as he was crushed back down. He looked up as much as he could, blanching when he saw the jug in the man's hand.

"W-What's that?" he whispered, hating how scared he sounded.

"This? This is lye" Kane stated menacingly, screwing off the cap before tilting the bottle "And this is a chemical burn."

White powder fell innocently from the jug, falling across the punk's back in a flurry. Phil jumped at the first sharp contact, brow drawing as he tried to figure out why it hurt. As more fell, pure torment sizzled through him. The powder burned like acid, his body almost convulsing as his flesh was eaten at by the lye. Kane watched with pure delight as smoke rose from the younger man's back, the odor of burning flesh reaching his nose.

"Aaah! Aah!" Phil shrieked, thrashing wildly.

"It'll hurt worse than you'll ever been burned, and it'll scar horribly" Kane said coldly, looking on with sick fascination.

"You son of a bitch!" Phil screamed, the sound of his own flesh searing filled his ears.

"Without sacrifice, there will only be more pain" Kane hissed, digging his boot in harder to the ravenette's neck "Give in."

Punk shook his head, tears slipping out of his closed lids. He bucked, muscles twitching all over as the hurt awoke every nerve in his entire body. His strong will was ebbed away with each awash of agony, gagging on the stench of his own flesh.

"It's ok, pretty Philly, what you're feeling is premature enlightenment" Kane dug his heel into the nape of the man's neck, effectively keeping his writhing body down "Your body wants to give in to me.""No-no-no-no, you're wrong. You're wrong!" Phil babbled, desperately trying to block it out.

"Shut. Up!" Kane drove down on his neck harder, getting him to jerk sharply "If Mark wanted you back so badly, wouldn't he be here?"

Phil grit his teeth, trying not to listen.

"Why would he want something as weak as you? Only _I _would want something so broken" Kane needled, drawing whimpers from the man that weren't completely from pain.

"No!" Phil wailed, pleading for it not to be true.

"If Mark is as powerful as you keep saying he is, if he's going to come swooping down to save his precious…" Kane leant down, grinning insanely as he dropped his voice to a husky rasp "Then where is he now in your moment of need? Why hasn't he come already? It's been days…surely he'd have found you by now?"

Punk swallowed down a sob, fisting a hand in his hair as he struggled not to loose it completely. The mind fuck was working, he wasn't sure what to believe anymore. Mark had connections everywhere…so why couldn't he find him? What was so hidden about this place?

//Maybe he doesn't care?// a dark voice in his head whispered.

The burn was too strong, he couldn't take it much longer. He felt his very soul dissolve, his will finally breaking. He was only so strong, he could only take so much. Starved, weak, cold…he broke.

"O-Okay" Phil whimpered, voice barely audible "Okay…okay, anything, please…I-I'll do anything…just make it stop…"

Kane snatched up the bottle of vinegar, then grabbed the man by his hair. He dragged him off the mattress as much as the chains would allow, not wanting to poison him, simply break him. Phil was still screaming as he was dragged onto the freezing cement, struggling as his flesh stung from both sides. Kane flipped the cap off the jug, letting the vinegar bathe the burning skin.

The moan of relief was music to his ears, he could feel himself grow hard in his jeans.

Punk wasn't really sure what went on next. His eyes glazed over as the pain faded away, though he realized he was being dragged back onto the mattress. He shoved the man away, not giving a shit about anything but sleeping as he spread himself out on the mattress.

Phil only knew his mistake when the bigger man straddled his legs, fingers skidding across the band of his trunks. His eyelashes fluttered weakly, his hand curling over the top edge of the mattress. No! He couldn't do this! Mark was his first, his only. He belonged to Mark, _with_ him. How could he let another man do this to him? How could he betray his master?

Phil tried to push up, get away, but he couldn't find the strength to do more than curl his fingers around the bare mattress. White knuckles, pain…his trunks were pulled down carefully, a monster not wanting to rip his prize, not wanting to spoil it for himself.

A selfish monster now had his hands on Undertaker's treasured pet…and he planned on enjoying every moment of his destruction.


	22. Chapter 22

**Another short chapter, sorry. It kind of jumps between the hospital and Shawn taking his revenge, but there was no real filler for me to put in that would've helped the flow. **

* * *

The next morning, the doctors conferred and decided all the subs could be discharged. The hospital had done all they could do this past week, all the was left was bed rest and care. The masters were signing out their subs one by one, making sure all the paperwork was in order.

The subs were hanging around the hallway, waiting to leave. Jeff and Jay seemed pretty self-sufficient, the Hardy bandaged up but the blonde's stitches were exposed. They felt as okay as they could under the circumstances. Evan was standing between them, all but drowning in a black plaid shirt that buttoned up over his torso. The material hung loosely to his lithe form, but it was comfortable. He was leaning against the hospital wall, head dropping down a bit. He was sleepy, but he was getting better. His two friends kept an eye on him, making sure he wasn't going to drop.

Jake had stolen a wheel chair for his own amusement, he was currently playing around in it. Miz wanted to reprimand him, but he could only watch with a fond smile. His love had been through enough, trying to do a wheelie wasn't going to hurt anyone. You could clearly see the stitches, thin lines shaved into the blonde's head like cornrows. They weren't noticeable once you ruffled his hair a bit, but they were there.

Morrison was leaning against the wall as well, nothing covering him but a pair of loose sweat pants and a black zip-up jacket that he'd done up to his neck. He still had a row of bandage where his gash was, but the swelling had gone down and he looked pretty normal. A split along his lower lip, some bruising, but not nearly as bad as it had been.

The masters were waiting around the nurse's station, Miz was up first. He had just finished signing Jake out when Randy came up with Dr. Collins, the ravenette informing the nurses that Cody was ready to leave as well.

Jay happened to glance down the hall, double-taking when he realized Cody was coming this way. He was walking slowly, dressed in one of his Ed Hardy shirts and his old leather jacket. The supple material was cut just right to hide his tail, a black ball cap on his head. Jay nudged Jeff, who bit his lip at the thought of what his friend had been through.

Jake stopped messing with the wheel chair, Morrison's eyes widened as he caught sight of the brunette.

There was a long moment of silence, everyone afraid to open their mouths. The subs stood there, watching him approach. They all kept imagining their sweet Cody with a baby and how he'd lost that, their grief over the boy's own paralyzing them. It was a little unnerving with the way they were all staring at him.

"Hey guys" Cody whispered, standing before them.

Evan broke the long moments of silence, pushing away from the wall and giving a little sigh. He walked over to his friend, very carefully wrapping his arms around him and giving him a hug. Cody felt tears well in his eyes at the tenderness, a chaste kiss brushed along his cheek.

"I'm sorry" Evan murmured, hot cheek pressed to the younger man's.

The others came up as well, catching the boy in a hug of their own. Cody felt tears slip down his face, but he savored the feel of all of his friends loving him. Jeff kissed his other cheek, Jay dropped another on his shoulder, and they all pulled away so Jake could give him a gentle bear hug from behind. He gave a little chuckle at the bigger man trying to be careful with him, turning around and giving him a hug back.

"I'm glad you're awake."

"I'm glad you're not…" Jake pulled back, peering into the younger man's face as he searched for the words "I'm glad…you can try again."

Cody smiled weakly, "Me too."

"I'm sorry we didn't see it before" Jeff apologized for them all "Maybe if we'd paid more attention and kept an open mind…"

"I mean: morning sickness? We should've saw that" Jay bit the side of his lip "We'll try to pay more attention, ok?"

"Guys, it's not your fault" Cody assured them "It's no ones."

"No ones but Hunter's" John growled, easing up next to the brunette to run a hand through the short hair along the back of his neck "This time next year? I'm sure you'll be plump with a healthy little one. It'll have Randy's eyes…and your cute little butt."

The rest of the subs tensed, but Cody actually laughed. He loved that quirk about John, about how he could just say things and somehow they'd turn out right no matter how wrong they sounded.

"I love you, Johnny" Cody hugged the glitter doll, getting a little squeak. He ignored the way the older man protested the hug, knowing Nitro talked a big game but he loved physical contact. After a moment of hesitation, he felt strong arms around him in a returning hug.

Jericho signed the last line of his pet's release form, turning just in time to see the subs fawning over Cody. He smiled a bit, moving so Shawn could sign Morrison out. All the masters were standing around the nurses station, everyone was pretty much keeping their distance.

"Now what?" Randy asked, looking up at their leader.

"Now?" Mark inquired softly "Now…Shawn has his turn."

Matt's upper lip curled in a snarl, "Why does Shawn get 'ta go next?"

"Because JBL knows where the rest of those assholes are" Miz replied, a sense of satisfaction in his chest.

"And it just so happens I know where Layfield is" Shawn stepped away, letting Adam up to the station where he was handed the sign-outs for his brother "And I know where to go to catch him off guard. I promise…I'll find out where all the others are."

Jericho nodded reluctantly, "Yeah, ok…I trust you, Shawn. But be quick, ok? I don't want any of them leaving the state."

HBK smirked, a shadow passing over his face, "Oh they won't, Chrissy. I promise."

Adam shrugged, passing the papers back with his signature, "Everyone got their plans ready?"

A particularly dark gleam came to Matt's eyes, "Oh yeah."

"First thing's first" Mark looked to his second "You need to leave now while we still know he's in the state."

"I'm goin' " Shawn took a step away, but paused "I gotta say goodbye to Johnny first. He deserves to know what I'm about to do."

They nodded in agreement, watching him walk over to his sub.

"Speaking of the boys…" Randy rumbled, leaning against the counter "Where are we going to keep all of them for the time being? Tampa isn't safe anymore, and I doubt they'd be comfortable here anymore. Plus with all of us about to go off on our vendettas, they wouldn't appreciate being left alone."

"I definitely don't want Evan by himself" Jericho stated firmly "If his fever spikes up again, he'll need someone to keep him bedded down."

"Cody needs his friends" Randy added.

"Jack wouldn't stand for being shipped off anyway" Miz smiled to himself "He's protective of the others."

"So we'll take them all together out of state" Adam conceded "But to whose house?"

"We could use 'Taker's" John suggested "It's spacious enough, and it's kind of like a fortress anyway."

"They'll expect that" Mark's jaw hardened "I couldn't stand it if something happened to them in my home. It'll be the first place anyone wishing to harm them would look."

Jericho chewed the inside of his lip, "You're right. Your place isn't exactly…inconspicuous."

"My house is in state" Adam shrugged "It's big enough, but they'd look there too."

Jericho and Cena exchanged a look; both their homes were along the outskirts of this very city.

"They could go to Missouri" Randy suggested, but found fault "But there's a lot of people, they might not take too kindly to it."

Mark's eyes fell on Matt, "How about your home, Matthew?"

"In Cameron?" Matt inquired, nodding slowly as he thought "Yeah, it's just a three or four hour plane trip up there from here. That town could only have…what? Four hundred people in it? Our home's kind of up in the woods, no neighbor around for miles."

"Is it secure?"

"Yeah" Matt replied, remembering the system he'd had installed "I leave Jeff there a lot, it's top of the line. It's big enough; they could all stay there for sure."

"It's settled" Mark decided "You'll tell the boys then?"

"Sure."

**xXx**

The others let John leave them, trying not to ogle as Shawn led his boy off. They went around the corner, shielded by the semi-privacy of an empty hallway.

"What's wrong?" Morrison whispered, afraid something else had happened.

"Listen close, darlin' " Shawn started off, trying not to let his voice waver "There's something I gotta do, something that isn't…well, _legal_. I'm only going to be gone for a day or two, but I want you to stay with the others. Don't try to contact me while I'm gone."

John's doe eyes widened, "What are you going to do?"

Shawn's voice cooled, "I'm going to kill Layfield."

"Shawn, you can't!" John cried out, getting hushed "No! This is wrong! You can't-"

Shawn gently pinned his pet against the wall, covering his mouth with his hand, "Hush."

John's eyes watered up, he nodded to show he'd comply. Slowly, his master's hand was removed.

"I know I said some horrible things, but I didn't mean them" John whispered tearfully "You can't actually kill someone. You're a good, Christian man…you shouldn't do this. Not even for me."

But there was something in his pet's face, some glimmer of hope. He said what he thought he had to, but Shawn knew his beloved wanted revenge as much as he did. His Johnny was quite the pistol; he didn't take shit from anyone and never hesitated to let them know what he thought. These words…they were just to keep his conscious clean.

"Don't damn yourself for me" John pleaded.

"And don't you worry your pretty little head about any of this" Shawn soothed his boy's nerves, gently carding his fingers through his soft raven hair "I'm going to fix everything."

John wanted to protest, he truly did, but he snapped his mouth closed.

"We're going to take you all to a safe place, and I want you to be strong for the others" Shawn trailed his hand down to the boy's cheek, running his thumb along his jaw "But if you can't do it –and I understand if you're tired, darlin' – don't be afraid to let Jay take over, okay?"

John nodded, giving a little sigh, "I wish you wouldn't do this."

"It'll all be over soon enough."

**xXx**

A few minutes before they were going to leave, Mark asked Randy to join him in one of the abandoned hospital room. The sub-master entered, bringing Cody with him. He was a little unsure why he was there, but one look from those dark eyes of the court's leader and he knew it was nothing bad.

"Shut the door, Randall."

Randy obeyed, shutting and locking the door to the hospital room.

"Now Cody…" Mark held out a hand "Come here, little one."

Cody approached him, lightly running his hand over his empty, stitched up belly. He'd always held a special place in Mark's heart, being the one who found him and gifted him to Randy. The Orton had been the only one to watch him grow up, to see him bloom into the man he'd become. He found himself folded into the Head Master's arms, feeling safe there. It was a different type of safe than when his master held him, this was more of a fatherly touch.

Something he'd never known but in Undertaker.

Cody shut his eyes, relaxing into it.

"It's a shame what happened, if I had known it was even possible, I would have told you from the start…" Mark informed them both, chest aching for their loss "It would've been a grand addition to our little family. But it couldn't have happened to two stronger people."

Randy was surprised at this, " 'Taker?"

"Can you imagine our John living through this?" Mark inquired, stroking through the ravenette's hair and looking down at him "Or our Teddy?"

Cody shook his head, Ted put up a strong front but he couldn't handle emotional or mental pain very well.

"I'm truly in mourning for what's been taken from you, but I'm also hopeful for what can be one day" Mark let the boy go, giving him a slight smile "I want you to rest. I want to recover completely from this."

Cody nodded, "Yes, 'Taker."

"Go now" Mark gestured, and the boy obeyed completely. He gave his master a lingering look, then unlocked and headed out the door. It shut, and Randy was about to follow him when he saw his leader was gazing at him rather intently.

" 'Taker?"

Mark came up, laying his hand on one of his favored's shoulder, "How are you holding up?"

"I'll be alright, as long as Cody is" Randy replied honestly "I couldn't stand all the crying…he was just so upset…I'm sure there'll be more tears, but right now it's better."

"Like I said before…you're both incredibly strong" Mark sounded so confident, it assured the younger man "After all this mess is over, I hope you'll take some time off."

"Count on it" Randy growled "But not before Hunter gets his."

"Of course."

**xXxXxXx**

_The next day_

JBL slowly pulled himself out of sleep, wanting to drift off again when he realized the limo had stopped moving. He gave a little groan, stretching out his longs legs to relieve the tweak in his lower back. He heaved a great breath, then sat up. He moved his cowboy hat back into it's proper place, for he'd pulled it low so he'd be able to nap, and realized very quickly someone was in the limo with him.

"Jesus!" Bradshaw jumped at the sight of his rival sitting across from him "Now _Goddamnit_, Shawn, that ain't no way to wake a man!"

"Don't use the Lord's name in vain, John" Shawn drawled, his expression stony "It isn't good for your soul."

Shawn was sitting on the leather seat parallel to the business man, the same exact seat Bradshaw had bent Morrison over and fucked him raw. He had his hands folded in his lap, boot-clad feet flat on the floor. He barely blinked, and he sure as hell never looked away.

"How the hell did you get in my limo, Michaels?" Bradshaw growled, looking around only to see his windows had been blacked out with spray paint "Where are we? What happened to my driver?"

"I gave him an ultimatum, and he left" Shawn replied truthfully "I know what you've done, Layfield. I know you put your hands on my boy."

"Oh really?" Bradshaw smirked, sitting back in his seat "And how is the little glitter whore?"

"John's fine, no thanks to you" Shawn spat, but kept his composure "I may be here for revenge, but I need something else more. I want the locations of everyone who helped you."

"Bullshit" Bradshaw scoffed "I don't care a lot for that scum I had to work with, but I'd never help _you_."

"Listen, Layfield" Shawn started calmly, slowly pulling a .45 silver pistol from his jean jacket "I don't have time to mess with you. I want locations and I want them now. Angle, Styles, Raven, Hunter…where they are or where they'll be. And the address of where Kane's taken Punk to."

Layfield paled a bit at the sight of the gun, "You wouldn't."

"I would" Shawn countered icily "Tell me what I want to know, and we'll see."

Bradshaw was about to protest, but a notepad and pen were tossed at him. He took it reluctantly, pulling out the writing utensil.

"Think about it, Layfield, think carefully" Shawn reasoned "What do you owe those men? Certainly not your life. They sold you out in a heartbeat…why shouldn't you do the same?"

Severally, painfully slow minutes went by, only Bradshaw's wheezy breath breaking the silence of the limo. Eventually, a nervous grin split the business man's face.

"_Fine_" John countered, voice tight "Fine, Michaels. You win, you happy? The trash doesn't deserve my protection, anyways."

Shawn's own grin was much more wicked, "Now you're seeing it my way."

Bradshaw started scribbling down everyone's names, all the Anti-Court, with an address out on the side where they lived, where they were going, and even hotels. He ripped out the piece of paper, handing it over.

"There" Layfield stated curtly.

Shawn didn't move the gun as he peered down at the note, "…what about Kane? And that turncoat Batista?"

"They're together."

It was obvious John wasn't about to give it up easily.

"Layfield…"

"They're at Kane's house" he offered vaguely.

"What house?" Shawn snapped impatiently "He's got at least seven!"

"You gotta promise not to shoot me" Bradshaw drawled, looking rather smug "You'll never see the kitten or the punk again if you use that gun."

Shawn didn't touch the safety, but he did relax his grip, "I promise not to shoot you if you tell me where DiBiase and Phil are."

Layfield narrowed his eyes at his rival, "Gimme your word as a man of God?"

The legend twitched at this, but he nodded, "Swear."

Considering the deal made, Layfield scratched down an address. After a few moments, he ripped the paper out and tossed it at the other.

"That's where you'll find them" Layfield snapped "Now get out!"

Shawn silently pocketed both papers after examining them closely. He opened up the door, exposing the darkening of twilight. He clicked the safety off, easing the gun back into the hidden pocket of his jacket. He slipped out of the limo, slamming the door shut.

JBL didn't move, breathing a sigh of relief as he willed his heart to slow. A smug expression came to his face, he'd won. He'd sold out all the others, gotten the best taste of John Morrison, and life to tell the tale. He was pretty damn proud of himself, for not many messed with the Court like he had and lived.

A solid click echoed throughout the limo, the locks snapping in place. Bradshaw's brow creased, he hadn't pressed anything. He scooted toward the door, pulling at the handle only to find it wouldn't budge. He jerked at it, pulling with all his might…but nothing.

"Hey!" Bradshaw shouted "Michaels! Now, _damnnit_, let me out of here! I know you can hear me! Let me the _fuck_ out!"

**xXx**

Shawn looked upon the limo with a cold expression, standing just a bit away from it in the dirt. He'd found an abandoned spot north of the Florida border, no green around for miles. Hell, his rented Hummer was by the road at least a mile away. Mark was standing nearby, a leather jacket across his broad chest and a helmet tucked under his arm. His motorcycle was behind them, a large body pained black metal and raw power.

Of course, his leader was there to watch, he wanted to oversee all the revenge

"Saint Michael the Archangel, defend us in battle" Shawn prayed quietly, the limo's keys dropping from his hand to plummet into the dirt "Be our protection against the wickedness and snares of the devil."

Shawn gave a heavy sigh, copper lashes fluttering closed as he listened to JBL start to panic inside limo. He could feel his leader reaching out to him, offering him sympathy.

_If you don't want to dot his, I will._

//I'm strong enough on my own.//

Though it went against everything he stood for, though it went against the ultimate commandments of God, Shawn picked up the kerosene filled red gas tank. He unscrewed the top, the foul stench quickly filling his senses. He had blacked out the windows earlier, he didn't want to see what would happen to the man inside.

"May God rebuke him, we humbly pray…"

Shawn lifted the canister, pouring the catalyst over the top of the limo. It spilled down the sides like rain, trickling into the recesses of the car. He continued down, making sure to douse the front and back end. Every inch had to be coated, this needed to be a good burn. This fuel was special, it was designed to burn much longer than normal.

Once the tank was empty, Shawn tossed it aside. Something akin to pity shown in his world weary eyes, for a moment it looked as if he wasn't going to go through with it. But then he remembered his pet lying there, broken and bleeding, and his heart broke. His beloved had gone through so much hell, and had pleaded for him not to do this. Shawn had seen something in John's doe eyes, a malicious sheen that wanted to return the pain that had been dealt on him (at three fold.) He knew his pet would never find any closure until this scumbag was killed.

Shawn looked toward his in-ring rival and leader, indicating silently what he needed. With one swift movement, a silver glinting object was tossed at him. He managed to catch it rather easily. It was cold in his palm, rectangular, and he knew it was a Zippo. He rolled it in his palm, peering down to see none other than the HBK cross on it's surface.

Shawn glared at the older man, "You're not making this easy, are you?"

"It shouldn't be" Mark rumbled solemnly "It should be the hardest thing you've ever done. It tore Bret apart. It'll tear us all apart, none of us will be the same. But I know you Shawn, my Court's made of nothing but good men. Layfield's already managed to damage your heart…what's one piece of your soul?"

Shawn clutched the lighter to his chest, closing his eyes and listening to JBL's screams for mercy. The Heaven he so completely believed in would be lost to him for this act. But 'Taker was right, he always was about these things. His heart -his Johnny- was assaulted in the most intimate way possible and left for dead. He'd never seen his beloved look so rough before, not even during his seedy days as a stripper.

It would take months of healing and therapy before he could ever be what he once was.

John Morrison was a state of mind…and he wouldn't be returning for quite some time.

Shawn flicked open the lighter, dragging it skillfully down the side seam of his jeans. A thick flame sprung to life, glowing in the darkening twilight.

"And do Thou, O Prince of the Heavenly Host - by the Divine Power of God - cast into hell, satan and all the evil spirits" Shawn breathed, eyes locked on the flame.

With one smooth swipe, Shawn ran the lighter over the side of the limo.

It took mere moments for the flames to spread. It was a blue-tinged fire gash at first, blooming from the line of origin all the way down the girth of the vehicle. Over the windows, down the doors, and along the hood. Even the tires were engulfed. JBL started screaming even louder, pleading anything mixed with curses as the temperature started to increased. The thud of his fists against the glass sounded over the flames. The limo burned bright, the flames dancing and crackling as they ate up insulation and paint.

Layfield was trapped, he wasn't going anywhere.

"…who roam throughout the world seeking the ruin of souls" Shawn finished, snapping the lighter closed "Amen."

The other kept screaming, the sound soon becoming garbled before fading all together. Something in his heat hardened, but he couldn't care too much. He'd gotten the proper revenge for his boy, and that was all that matters.

Shawn walked away from the blazing limo, pulling a pack of smokes out of his jacket. He hadn't smoked in years, but it was either suck it down now or let his heart explode. It felt four times too big in his chest, and he needed anything to take the edge off. He continued on, resting the cigarette between his lips, stopping when he hit Mark's bike.

"I would've done that for you" Mark stated "I wouldn't have made you take a life."

"It was my decision" Shawn griped, the cigarette bouncing on his lips as he fumbled with his lighter.

Mark quirked an eyebrow, "I thought you always did the good, Christian thing?"

"I did" Shawn tilted his head, lighting the end of his cigarette and sucking in a red glow.

Mark suppressed his smirk, nodding toward the limo, "How is that more Christian than a bullet in the back of the head?"

"I ask myself what Jesus would do" Shawn took a hard draw off his cigarette, exhaling the smoke after a long moment "…so I lit the son-of-a-bitch on fire and sent him to hell. I think the Big Guy will agree. And if not…I deal with it when my time comes."

Shawn walked past his leader, smoking the stick down like candy.

The grin he'd been trying to hide finally formed on the older man's face, he couldn't exactly disagree with that logic.

The limo crackled loudly, signaling that the flames were about to eat the engine. Mark slipped on his shades, properly straddling his bike before kicking it to life. He followed the other back to the road, the rumble of his engine the only thing breaking the silence.

Neither flinched when the limo finally blew.

_God, grant me the strength to accept the things I cannot change.  
Courage to change the things I can  
And the wisdom to know the difference_


	23. Chapter 23

**I've sent the subs to the Hardy Home. They'll be safe there, right?**

**Sub-Muses: *pale***

**Emono: **_**Yes**_**, guys, you'll be safe there.**

**Sub-Muses: *sigh in relief***

* * *

Jeff unlocked the door to his house, gently shoulder it open, "Welcome, guys."

The subs filed in, taking a good look around. They hadn't all been to the Hardy place in two years or so, Matt had spent a lot of money turning it into a semi-fortress. That, and Jeff liked his privacy when he was working on all his creative talents. The subs found themselves all but out in the woods, but the place was big enough for them all.

"Not to sound rude…" Christian started "But our house was a lot closer."

"We needed somewhere secure, Jay" Adam walked in behind the others, the rest of the masters soon following "And this is perfect."

The smaller blonde shrugged, deciding just to agree.

Randy helped his pet down onto the couch; the boy gave a low purr as he was finally able to stretch all the way out. Airplanes weren't very forgiving to men of their height and size, even the smallest of them got a little crowded.

"So now what?" Jericho looked to Cena, who was technically in charge until Undertaker and Shawn returned.

" 'Taker said he'd call us when it was over" Cena grumbled, making himself comfy in one of the plush chairs "So now, I guess, we wait."

Chris muttered a complaint, but he wasn't in a position to argue. He snagged his pet around the waist, pulling him into his body. Evan tensed only for a moment, finally melting into his side.

Matt observed his brother nodding, how all the subs seemed to be tired. No one had slept since they'd left the hospital, and that was almost ten hours ago. They were still recovering from physical and mental wounds, every single one of them. There was a large space in front of the widescreen TV, large enough for a futon.

"Come on, Johnny-boy" Matt slapped Cena's shoulder, getting his attention "I need ya 'ta help me move somethin'."

**xXx**

"Matty…" Jeff followed his brother as he and Cena lugged a ridiculously heavy futon "You don't have to do this, ya know. We coulda lifted it ourselves."

"I want you guys to be comfortable when we leave" Matt replied, grunting as they dropped the bed down in front of the TV. It rolled out rather perfectly, one end inches from the TV stand and the other pressed up against the length of the couch.

Cody looked to his master, eyes wide, "You're leaving?"

"We'll only be gone for a few days" the older man soothed his love's worries, softly stroking his hair from where he stood behind him "A _week_, at most. It'll only be some of us at first…then the rest of us will go out and hunt down the men who did this to you."

Jay turned to his master with disbelief on his face, "You can't be serious?"

Edge didn't hesitate to glare back, "Of course we are. Every one of them we'll die for what they did."

"Angle's an animal, but he doesn't deserve to be put down like one!" Jay snapped, not one to hold his tongue.

"Yes they do!" Jeff interjected heatedly, emerald eyes wet (yet no tears fell) "They took what they wanted from all of us! No hesitation, and definitely no fuckin' mercy. You think they gave a shit about what they were doing? Do you think that they considered we were people too, not meat?! They're disgusting pigs, and I think we should slit their throats!"

Eyes fell to him, surprised at the outburst. Jeff snapped his mouth closed, leaving the room to search for some extra blankets and pillows. Matt watched him go, sympathy etched into his dark eyes.

"Are you ready to do it?" Evan whispered, fingering the hem of his master's t-shirt.

Chris nodded, dropping a kiss in his boy's raven hair, "Yeah, Evvy. I can't let him get away with what he did to you. You almost died, baby."

Jason couldn't take it anymore, he grabbed his jacket and stormed into the kitchen. He pushed open the screen door, headed out on the deck alone. The sky was dark, the air chilled, but he didn't care. He shoved his arms into his sleeves, a scowl twisting his face. He dug into his pocket, finding his emergency pack of smokes. It was his last one, he reminded himself to go buy a new pack as he plucked out the stick and a small lighter.

Jason's hands were trembling too much, he couldn't get a proper grip on either. His thumb fumbled on the lighter, the stupid thing refused to light no matter how many times he flicked it.

"Jay-Jay…"

Christian tossed them both aside, growling in frustration. He raked a hand through his hair, unwilling to turn around and face his master.

"Calm down, angel" Adam purred into his ear, easing up behind him and wrapping his arms around his waist.

"How can I?" Jay hissed, still angry but not pulling away "_You're_ going to kill someone because _I_ was stupid enough to get caught off guard."

"It wasn't your fault" Adam assured him, staring out at the view of the tree line the porch offered them "That coward attacked you from your blind spot. He hurt you, I have to do this."

"You didn't kill the last guy who hurt me!" Jay whipped around, glaring at his master "Remember when we were on the pre-circuit together, right before we made it big? That asshole rival of ours, Domino, pinned me down in a training ring and fucked me right there! I-I came to you later, I was drunk and crying…"

Jay swiped at his eyes roughly, swallowing back the tears plaguing them, "God, it hurt so much…and I remembering you putting me to bed. After that, we just…never talked about it…"

The smaller blonde yanked himself out of his memories, shoving at his master's chest, "The point is: You never killed him! You got him fired, yeah, but…"

Jay looked up into his brother's eyes, unsure what that stony expression meant, "What?"

"You don't want to know, Jay" Adam replied stiffly "It's better if you guys don't know what we do. That's why we do it, to keep you from getting hurt."

The other wouldn't budge, "Tell me. I can take it. We've never had secrets before, Addy."

Adam sighed, turning the other around so they stood back to chest again. He curled his arms around his brother's lean waist again, resting his chin on his shoulder.

"They'll find his body in a few years at the bottom of Lake Michigan" Edge admitted softly, hoping he didn't frighten his beloved "I've protected you all my life, baby brother. And when I haven't been able to, I've sure as hell avenged you."

Jay relaxed into his master's embrace, letting his eyes fall closed. Worshipful kisses were dropped along his neck, he managed a smile at the slight scratchiness to them.

"You need to shave" Jay scolded lightly.

"Are you going to be sweet for me while I'm gone?" Adam whispered against his skin "Are you going to stay strong?"

Jay's smile grew as the other touched his chin, raising his head so their eyes met. Those smoldering azure eyes were almost a copy of his own, reminding him just how deeply connected they were. He shadowed the arm around his waist with his own, his eyes falling shut as he savored the moment.

"Yes, Master" Jay murmured, their lips meeting softly. It was very brief, but no less meaningful.

"I was afraid to touch you" Adam admitted, voice still caught in a hushed whisper "I was afraid you'd never want me near you again."

"You're not him" Christian replied simply "I know that. Nothing could ever turn me off your touch."

The next kiss was much more passionate, proving that things would be normal again…one day.

**xXx**

Jeff tilted back on the futon, nearly falling off as he craned his neck to see the patio. He smiled as he saw the lovers kissing, and he knew things would be ok.

"Are they going to be okay?" Jake inquired, trying to see as well from his position on the couch. Cody was laughing at his effort.

"They'll be fine" Jeff waved their big-bad protector off, grinning a bit as he observed the free show. Matt was about to scold his brother for peeping when a cell phone went off.

_I think I'm cute, I know I'm sexy__  
I got the looks…that drives the girls wild  
I got the moves that really move 'em__  
I send chills up and down their spines__  
I'm just a sexy boy (sexy boy)  
I'm not your boy toy (boy toy)_

"It's him" Cena motioned toward the others to follow him, leading them back into the other part of the house where the dining room was. It was for privacy, he didn't want the subs to get too worked up over this.

Morrison eased to his feet, walking around the futon and into the kitchen. He went up to the sliding glass door, rapping his knuckles against the surface. The blonde bombshells broke apart, giving the younger sub a strange look.

"It's time" John informed them, a grave expression on his handsome face.

Edge gave his pet's hip one last caress, whispering something to him before leaving his side. He slid open the door, taking long strides through the kitchen.

Jay came to the doorway, looking after his master longingly. John patted his shoulder hesitantly, offering him a reassuring smile.

"You okay, Jay?"

"Yeah, I'll be fine" the blonde replied honestly.

In the living room, Jeff leaned in to an awaiting Cody, Evan, and Jake. They had moved onto the bed with him, it was big enough for at least half a dozen of them. They would be very comfortable lounging about in the living room while the others were gone.

"You know how many people Matt has killed for me?" Jeff whispered enticingly, his audience wide-eyed and eager "…six."

"Th-ix?" Jake whispered, he couldn't believe it.

"Yep" Jeff sat back, his grin full-fledge now "Matty's real protective, and there's a lotta behind-the-scenes guys who wanna take advantage of little 'ol me."

Jay came up to his best friend, kneeling behind him and resting his chin on his shoulder, "Bullshit, Jeffy. You like to pretend your some sweet Southern belle, but you're just as evil as the rest of us."

Jeff sighed dramatically, leaning back into his friend's embrace and looking at the other more innocent subs with half-lidded eyes, "Mmm…you caught me, Jay."

Cody and Evan shared a nervous chuckle, both silently wondering how many people their masters had hurt on their behalves.

**xXx**

With Adam now among them, the masters gathered around the polished dining room table. Cena set the cellphone right there in the middle, turning it on speaker so they could all hear.

"_Is everyone there?_" Shawn inquired.

"Yeah, man, talk to us" John assured him, leaning on the table with his palms flat on the surface.

"_It went down as well as it could of_" Shawn sighed over the line "_The cops are ruling it a mob-hit. I'm in the clear. But 'Taker got orders for you; we're on our way to the airport now_."

Astonishment appeared on Randy's faces, "You got the locations?"

"_Oh yeah_" there was a bit of fumbling; some mutters in the background "_Ok, here's the Deadman. Listen close, okay? We don't have a lot of time before they catch on, so we can't screw this up_."

The phoned was passed to Mark, for the man's deep voice came over the phone line, "_First of all, no one's going alone. There'll be no lone wolf missions_."

Everyone gave Matt a sly look, the darker Hardy tended to go off by himself and deal with any problems relating to his little brother.

"_Yes, Matthew, I mean you_" Undertaker rumbled.

Matt's cheeks dusted red at the implication, drawling out in a low respectful voice, "Master 'Taker, I would 'neva intentionally put this court in any danger…"

"_I know_" Mark stated "But _I have to put a pause on all other acts of vengeance until John and I take ours_."

Some voices of complaint rose up almost instantaneously, but a growl from their leader silenced their insolent tongues.

"_Batista and my bastard brother are in the same house, they have both our boys there, John_" Mark continued once they had quieted "_I want to get there as soon as we can and strike them both down at once. I care more about saving Phil and putting him back together than dragging out Glenn's death_."

"Putting him back together?" Miz questioned, hoping it didn't sound as bad as he thought it was.

"_My brother is not known for his mercy_" Mark spat, but calmed instantly "_Will you settle for a bullet to the head, John?_"

"Fuck no" Cena shot back, teeth bared aggressively "I want that bastard to suffer!"

Their leader muttered a few curses in what seemed to be Latin before speaking up, "_Fine. But I want it done on sight. Right there, Jonathan_."

Cena raked his teeth over his lower lip roughly, but he knew deep down that fixing whatever damage was done to Ted was much more important, "…alright, 'Taker. I'm being a little selfish, huh?"

"_No matter_" Mark assured him, voice paving out into something much more frightening "_My brother is in Georgia, not Tennessee. We're going to have a little rescue mission, so I want a team. We'll need some help with the bodies_."

Something changed in his tone, something softer, "_How about my youngest? Is he up to it?_"

Miz flushed when he realized he was who was being referred to, his friends' eyes falling to him expectantly. He ran a hand over his hair in a nervous manner, smoothing the few hairs out of place. He rubbed his thumb over his lower lip, thinking of the time he'd spent with the Court. They'd never asked anything too horrible of him, and he felt a little guilty anyways. Jake had gotten off rather easy compared to some of the other subs, though his life was in danger just as much as any other.

This would be his penance.

"Yes, sir" Miz finally said, making his decision.

"_There's a plane leaving in five hours at the nearest terminal_" Mark continued, obviously he was already on top of things "_I've booked John, Michael, and Randy on it. Shawn and I will meet you when the plane lands in Atlanta. From there, we drive to this address I have here in my hand. I've rented two Hummers, that should be enough for all of us I've also had a few associates of mine go back to the hotels we'd been staying at, they've taken our luggage and sent all to my home. When all this is over, we'll deal with getting you and our boys back their things. Any questions?_"

Cena grinned, clapping sharply, "Now _that's_ the Undertaker I know and follow! _Runnin_' things!"

Mark's dark chuckle echoed over the line, "_You flatter me, John_."

Randy was a bit disappointed that he'd have to leave his baby so soon, but he knew he'd be needed, "We should leave now, then."

Edge's jaw clenched, "What about me, 'Taker? I can lug a body with the best of them. I can help."

"_And I have no doubt in your abilities, Adam_" Mark assured him, soothing the blonde's ego "_But don't you have an exotic pet to pick up?_"

Adam made an 'o' face, then grinned, "Oh! Right. Backwoods is the best place for that."

"As usual, you're three steps ahead of us" Jericho smirked, glad to have his leader back "Anything else, Master 'Taker?"

"_Yes_" Mark's tone was quite serious "_Christopher, Matthew…I trust you to watch over the boys until you get my call. When that happens, I'll have new instructions for all of you. I promise you this…you'll all get your just revenge, and you'll be satisfied in the end_."

"We trust you, 'Taker" Randy declared loyally "We know you won't steer us wrong. We know you'll do right by us."

"_That I will, my boy_" Mark cleared his throat, reluctant to sound sappy "_Matthew, I want you to teach Jake how to dress wounds. Our boys will be alone for an entire week, and some of them have raw wounds that'll need changing. I want you to make sure he knows enough to help Jason, I'm sure he'll want to take care of it all himself_."

Adam smiled to himself, his little brother could be quite the mother hen to his younger counterparts.

"_Monitor Evan's temperature, keep all stitches clean, make sure no one does anything strenuous. We can't risk infection_" Mark went down his mental list, wanting to cover all the bases when it came to his sub-court "_Be ready for when we return, Phil and Ted are going to need medical support. Matthew…"_

"I got the town doctor on speed dial" Matt shot in, knowing what was expected "He's a good man, he can hold his tongue. I've got Dr. Collins number for reference, just in case."

"_Good man_" Mark praised "_We'll speak later. Now, you need to get on that plane_."

The line went dead, the conversation over.

"Exotic pet?" Jericho looked to his friend, unsure what that meant.

"You'll find out" Adam foreshadowed.

"Fuck packing anything" John yanked on his ball cap, rearing to go "Say good-bye, we're gonna be pretty busy from here on out."

**xXx**

Adam ran in to the living room, pouncing on his brother and pinning him to the bed. The others moved out of the way, Jake and Cody crawling back onto the couch so they didn't get in the way. Jeff stayed where he sat, watching the two amazingly hot blondes engage in a long kiss.

Jay whined when the other pulled away, his mouth blindly following Adam's up a bit, "What's that for?"

"I have to go get something, I should be back soon" Adam informed him, running a hand through his short flaxen hair briefly before sitting up "If not, consider that a firm 'see ya later'."

Jay nodded, watching his master go and deciding right then he just wouldn't think about what would become of the infamous Kurt Angle.

Miz came up behind the couch, easing over the back of it. Jake was a little surprised, but scooted forward and let his master behind him. Miz rested his knees on either side of his pet's thighs, draping his arms over those stalwart shoulders. He nuzzled his pet's hay-shaded locks, inhaling the scent that was purely Jake.

"I'm going to have to leave, baby" Miz whispered to him, reaching up and tenderly brushing back blonde tresses to reveal one of the lines of stitches in his scalp "It won't even be two days."

"If you have to" Jake leant back into the touch, soaking in the feeling of his master's comforting touch. Those fingertips were soft on his skin, being so careful with him. Almost like when they were in bed, Jake made sure never to use his size as an advantage. He made sure not to hurt him, made sure that with whatever they did…Mike was in charge.

Miz tilted his love's face up, dropping a sweet kiss on his lips. Not one, but two…three…the gentle pressure of lips on lips, a shallow taste compared to their usual open-mouth kisses. But this was just as good, just as passionate.

Cody's lips curled in a subtle pout as his master approached him as well, he knew what this meant.

"That's right, my sweet, I'm going too" Randy sat down on the other side of the couch, wrapping an arm around his pet's shoulders. He dropped a kiss on his smooth cheek, then nosed at it in an affectionate gesture that warmed Cody's heart. His boy slotted against his body perfectly, as he always had, his head cradling into his shoulder.

"We're going to go get Punk and Teddy back, ok?" Randy murmured into his boy's raven hair, those beautifully unique ears of his twitching under the tickle of his breath "I'm going to go and help save them from whatever hell they've been pulled into, then we're going to bring them here. I'm going to need you to take care of him. Dress any wounds he has, help him get to sleep…make sure he's comfortable."

"Of course I will, I love Teddy" Cody replied, brow creased "But why can't John do it?"

"As soon as we get back, as soon as we re-group, we're all leaving again" Randy informed him, smiling as his pet's tail flicked against his legs, curling briefly around his calf "So I'm counting on you to take care of our Teddy while John can't. He'll want to, but I have a feeling 'Taker has other plans."

Cody pulled away a bit, peering up at him, "All of you? You're leaving us…alone?"

"Don't sound so scared, Coddles" Randy's lips brushed his ear in an intimate whisper "You'll be fine. No one can find you here, no one can touch you."

Cody nodded, tilting his head up further in a silent request for a kiss. Randy denied his boy no small affection, and captured his plump lips with his own. He kept it tender, cupping Cody's cheek briefly before trailing it down his neck and chest. His tail curled in pleasure, keening into the kiss. The moment his master's palm laid over his belly, he gasped.

"Master…" Cody sighed, breaking the kiss and ducking his head.

"He'll pay for this" Randy swore, keeping his touch light but meaningful "He won't get away for trying to destroy you…trying to destroy _us_."

"Never" Cody promised, brushing his lips across the older man's warm neck. His teeth nipped a bit at the flesh, lips curling up into a smile. "I love you."

"My sweet boy…"

Randy glanced at Jeff and Jason, who were watching the little display. They looked away once they'd been caught, pointedly shielding their eyes. Jake had his eyes to the floor, but Miz was shooting him a bit of devilish grin.

"Love you too" Randy replied, bussing a last kiss upon his boy's forehead before getting up off the couch "I have to go."

"I know" Cody clung to his master's hand as long as he couch, heart aching when he finally released him. After what just happened, he wished he had more time to just _be_ with his master. But that wasn't the case, that wasn't for now. Later, soon. But there were things to do first.

"Me too" Miz smacked a kiss onto his pet's cheek, getting a cute smile "There's my baby."

The flamboyant master got up as well, following Randy toward the door where John was waiting. They slipped on their coats and left, not wanting to linger.

"So that leaves us with Matty and Jericho…" Jeff stated, knowing those two were just in the other room.

"Then we're alone for a week" Cody added, hating it but knowing it had to be done.

"I don't know about you guys, but I'm starving" John stood up, clapping his hands together and looking around at his friends "Who can cook?"

They all looked around at one another, expecting someone to speak up.

"Oh shit" Jeff murmured "This is gonna be a long ass week."

He had a great idea, getting to his feet and walking toward the other room yelling, "Matty? Matty, I'm _hungry_! Fix us something?"

The subs sniggered as they heard Matt's sigh of defeat, knowing he'd always give into his little brother.

**xXxXxXx**

Punk lay alone in the cellar. Freezing, hungry, mouth parched, and still burning. He squirmed weakly on the mattress, hissing as the pain spiked up again. He didn't even want to touch the burn, though all the lye was gone he could still feeling his flesh being eaten away. He was scared to see it, he was afraid he was burned beyond all repair. The fact that he would have scars terrified him, for there was only one mark his master wanted him to bear…

Phil lifted his arm, resting his elbow against the mattress as he let his hand drop down into his hair. He pushed the strands aside, sucking in a sharp breath as he shifted wrong. He danced his fingers over the unmaimed flesh there where his master's symbol was tattooed, the only place on his neck Mark would allow because of all their camera time.

Punk bit his lip, trying not to cry anymore…he had betrayed his master.

Punk let his arm drop back to the mattress, to tired to torture himself anymore.

Kane had done enough of that, leaving him exposed and vulnerable after finally taking what he wanted from him.


	24. Chapter 24

**Wow, look at all this filler I have. It takes the masters a bit of time to get from the plane to the hideout, so let's have fun waiting it out…**

**PS: Glenn? Not an evil name. Yet again, neither is Mark.**

* * *

Batista walked around the bed, observing his shivering prize. He'd dialed down the temperature a while ago and left Ted alone, letting him really start feeling the chill before he came back in. The pathetic thing had been crying silently since he'd taunted him about his past. That folder Kane had given him had all the info he'd needed in it, giving a full profile about Brett and what had happened to him.

Dave reached out, tracing his hands along the whip-line scars along the back of the blonde's thighs, "My little slut…my pretty, pretty pussy…"

Ted's ears pinned back at the touch, unable to do more than take it. His heart was broken in his chest, the imaginary shards digging into his lungs and making each breath that more difficult. He could feel every wound on him; the numbness had worn off hours ago. Everything burned, ached…his body protested to every moment of being bound the way it was.

Batista's hands drifted along the inside of his thighs, making him jerk forward in shock and disgust.

//Hasn't this sick freak had enough?// Ted thought, but another voice in the back of his mind whispered //There'll never be enough punishment for what you've done. You're a whore and a failure to your brother.//

Ted tugged at the collar that kept him still, but it didn't budge.

Dave looked his prize over, finding something missing among the welts and the burns. He ran his wide palms all over the boy's smooth body, enjoying the way those muscles jumped under his hands. It came to him soon enough, a smirk twisting his lips.

"…I haven't marked you nearly enough, have I?"

Ted's eyes popped open, trying to look over his shoulder, //Is this fucker serious?//

Dave draped over the boy's body, yanking his head back by his hair and hissing into his ear, "One more offer, Teddy-baby…agree to be mine, and all this pain will stop. I'm not gonna be satisfied with a few tastes, I want you all."

Ted shook his head, knowing that even if he would agree…this man would kill him.

Batista tossed the boy's head carelessly, ignoring the whimper of pain. He got his answer, now was time to satisfy the animal inside of him by laying claim to his captive. The clink of his dog tags was audible, reminding the blonde that his master was always with him.

Ted hated this part, the waiting. He couldn't crane his neck to see what this asshole was up to, so all he could do was kneel there…exposed and vulnerable to whatever he wanted. He'd had everything done to him these past hours, days…how long had he been there?

Before he could come up with an estimate, sharp pain shot up his spine. He arched his back, screaming around the gag as unyielding teeth chomped down on the curve of his right hip. The bite was unforgiving, the man's powerful jaw clamping down almost so much that he could've ripped a chunk right out of him. He hated every pathetic sound that escaped him, and the agony didn't end until he felt the skin break.

Only when he tasted blood did Dave release him.

"Ugh" Ted groaned in relief, body almost convulsing it was shuddering so much.

"That's just the first, my little bear" Dave faux-soothed, lapping at the bleeding mark "I'm going to lay claim to every inch of you."

More tears slipped down his face, his hope barely a flicker now.

**xXxXxXx**

_In Savannah, Georgia Airport…_

Because of his size and gruff appearance, Mark kept to the shadows in the plane terminal, though his shades and plain toboggan cap his appearance very well. Shawn was beside him, shades hiding his eyes as well and his signature straw hat atop his head. Their plane had gotten there first, and they awaited the arrival of the rest of their court.

The first person they spotted was Miz, looking as impeccable and unruffled as usual. John and Randy appeared soon after, the best friends both in shades and walking at each other's sides. John spotted them first, the other two following him over to their leader.

" 'Taker" John removed his shades, peering into his face intently "You know for sure where our boys are?"

Mark held up a piece of paper, "Right here."

"Hummers are outside" Shawn flashed them a smirk "Let's get these sons-of-bitches."

They started to head out, John and Randy falling behind.

"I like this 'Shawn', he's hardcore" Randy murmured to his friend.

"This isn't Shawn, this is HBK" John informed him "Completely different ballpark."

They headed to the main lobby, knowing they had a long drive ahead of us.

**xXxXxXx**

Kane was standing in front of his TV, watching the news. There was an exploded limo found outside Florida, nothing left but a smoldering mess of scrap metal left by the time the authorities found it. It was found yesterday night, apparently…hours after it had happened. That's an uncomfortably long time to ignore a bright light out along a road.

Suspicion rose in the Big Red Monster, and it only grew as they reported they'd found the remains of someone inside.

Kane snatched a bottle of bourbon off the coffee table, deciding to go have some fun with his pliant straightedge angel.

**xXxXxXx**

_In North Carolina…_

Morrison stood in front of the mirror, gazing at his stitches with distaste. He had stripped down to his boxers and peeled off his bandages, leaving a line of raw stitches and dark red flesh. Thank God the swelling had gone down, but they were still too tender to start itching. He danced his fingers over the wound on his face, finding it hot to the touch.

"Need some help?"

John jumped at the voice, spotting his favorite blonde Canadian standing in the doorway behind him.

"You just want to get your hands on me" John teased.

"All the time" Jay replied flippantly, pushing off the doorframe and making his way over to his friend. He rummaged through the med kit on the counter, pulling out a bottle of antiseptic.

"I hate that shit" John complained, watching the other with cautious eyes as he applied it to a bit of gauze.

"It'll only sting for a moment" Jay half lied, tugging lightly at band of the man's slimly fitted briefs "Come on, get those off."

For the first time in a long time, the other looked hesitant about exposing his body.

"M-Maybe we could just…ya know…skip that…"

Jay walked back to the door, closing and locking it securely. He raised his eyebrow at the other, silently asking if this was okay. John smiled a little and nodded, feeling safer with something sturdy between him and the outside world.

"I'm not going to hurt you" Jay swore, inching back over to his friend "But if you want, I'll leave. You can do it yourself."

"No, it's fine" John shed his underwear without a second thought, keeping them "Drink your fill, cause it's the last you'll see of it, you perv."

The banter was easy, it was familiar. Christian knelt down in front of the brunette, applying the alcohol along the wound. It sizzled white in places, but otherwise seemed clean. He worked his way up the line of stitches, hoping that when his friend got these that he hadn't felt it.

"Ow" the ravenette winced at the sting, his friend already up to his hip "Hurry up."

Jay ignored him, making sure his work was efficent and not a rushed mess. He got every inch of the stitched wound clean, stopping finally when he got to his cheek. He ran his thumb over the unmaimed skin just under John's eye, offering a smile to his injured friend.

"You're still so beautiful" Jay soothed the man's ego, seeing a glint of relief in those dark eyes.

"You're just saying that because you want into my pants" John shoved the other playfully, drawing a grin from the blonde "Well, I'm not your Jeff, so don't get any kinky ideas."

"You got me" Jay sighed, faux-conceding, stepping back "So put your panties back on, princess, and I'll put away my handcuffs."

John actually laughed at this, grabbing the tape and gauze. He laid the crisp white bandage over the wound along his hip, all that would be hidden under his underwear. Once he was done, he carefully put them back on.

Jay helped cover the rest of the stitches with gauze, taping it down in the right places.

"You could be a nursemaid" John teased the blonde, loving the annoyed look that came to his friend's face "Oh come on! I bet Adam would love to see you in a skimpy nurse's uniform."

"Hey" Christian bandaged the younger man's face carefully, narrowing his eyes at him in a faux-fearsome way "You may be Shawn's little glitter doll, but I'm _not_."

John winced at the name, letting his friend finish up. Once all was re-bandaged, he grabbed the rest of his clothes and tugged them on. Satisfied, Jay started to leave…

"Jason…"

The blonde paused with his hand on the door, looking over his shoulder questioningly, "Yeah?"

John ran his hand through his hair a little bit, lips quirking upward in a bitter smile, "Don't call me a glitter doll anymore, okay? I don't…want to hear that again."

Jay was about to question this, but he saw how serious Morrison was. It was on his face, revealed in the tension around his eyes, in the set of his jaw.

"Sure."

"Thanks, Jay."

**xXxXxXx**

_With The Court…_

The Hummers took to the rough back roads easily, the shock absorbers helping with the ride. They got closer with each minute, the blaze of the afternoon Georgia sun blaring down to reveal their movement.

Mark drove the first Hummer, leading them according to the instructions they'd been given. Shawn was on his right, watching the scenery go by. His cowboy hat sat on the console, shades down around his neck.

Miz was in the back, growing more nervous by the moment. He tried to keep the Miz-façade, but it wasn't working. He was always nervous about going into situations where he had no idea what was expected of him.

John and Randy followed in the second vehicle, Orton at the wheel.

"Are you sure _he_ was the right one to bring?" Shawn inquired to his leader.

"Michael will do just fine" Mark assured his right hand, glancing into the rearview mirror to see his youngest looking a bit scared.

"Matt would've been better, or Chris" Shawn complained mildly "Nothing against the kid, but Matt's used to this kind of thing and Chris has nerves of steel, he's great at getting out of situations unscathed."

"Give him a chance" Mark replied impatiently, anxious to finally have his boy back in his arms "And give him his job."

Shawn pulled a black billfold from his jacket, turning a bit in his seat so he could face Miz, "See this?"

Miz nodded, eyeing the billfold that looked more like a thick passport, "This…is your job."

Miz accepted it, pulling apart the sides to reveal two syringes filled with a golden substance.

"Those are tranquilizers" Shawn informed him, glad to see the boy taking it so well "When we go inside, we're going straight for Batista and Kane. The moment we have one of them pinned down, I want you to shove this in their necks and plunge."

"In their jugular" Mark clarified, not wanting the young boy to actually kill one of them by accident "Firm pressure, don't push too deep though."

Miz shut the billfold, looking up at the other, "Will this kill them?"

"Nah" Shawn replied gruffly, a bit of disappointment I his voice "But it'll sure as hell knock them out. Pertaining that the boys aren't in fatal conditions - God forbid - we're going to take a side trip with those bastards to a real nice cemetery."

The brunette wasn't sure what to say, he was desperately trying to piece it all together, "So…there's a plan?"

"Albeit a flexible one" Shawn griped, turning back around in his seat "But 'Taker's got a plan, yeah."

"It's subject to change" Mark added vaguely.

Miz nodded, trusting his leader.

**xXx**

They pulled up to a rather large house at three, all syncing their watches. They had synced their watches, they had five hours until dark, when their plane would finish. The men piled out of the Hummers, taking in the area and finding no other house in sight.

"It's a nice looking house" Miz observed.

"Looks can be deceiving" Cena's eyes roamed over the normal exterior, wary "It's been soundproofed. You can tell by the padding along the windows."

"Well, let's un-soundproof it" Shawn rolled up his sleeves "They're big guys, so I'm countin' on yer support in there. I'm no spring chicken when it comes to grappling."

"We've got your back" Randy assured him, slapping a hand down on Mike's shoulder "Act fast in there."

"I will" Miz promised.

They headed up to the house, not worrying about being spotted since the curtains were all closed. There wasn't a camera in sight, no defense mechanism.

//Cocky bastard// Mark scowled, pausing on the steps of the porch.

"John."

"On it" Cena went straight to the door, twisting the knob lightly to test the lock. He stepped back, took a great huff, and then lashed out like a tiger. He threw his whole body into the blow, bolts and wood giving way at the force. When it didn't fall down, he struck again.

It splintered and caved and this time, creating an entrance.

They came in one by one, taking in their surroundings quickly before deciding to act.

"Upstairs."

Shawn went first, not getting two steps up before Batista came barreling carelessly down the staircase. He had come to investigate the noise, getting halfway down he spotted HBK and froze. Dark eyes danced over every other member of the court, anger and shock writing all across his face.

"Don't do it, Dave" Shawn held out his hand like he was talking to a wild beast, keeping a calm tone as he claimed another step "Don't run. You're caught, the game's over. Be a man here…_damn it, Dave_!"

Shawn lunged at the bigger man when he turned around, grabbing for his ankle when he tried to flee. Dave stumbled, fortunately Shawn was quick and climbed over him to try and hold him down. The Animal roared and struck out, flipping onto his back and slamming his elbow into the smaller man's chest. Shawn coughed, loosing his breath as he smacked against the wall from the blow.

But Cena was quick; he got up there and slammed his fist into his face before he could even think of getting up. He used every ounce of his strength to subdue the bigger man, keeping him down and making sure to bloody his face up real good.

Mark turned his attention from the stairs, going further into the house in search of his brother. He found him, there in the kitchen…an empty bottle of bourbon in his hand. He didn't seem surprised to see him, but he did look mighty pissed.

"Mark" Kane greeted curtly.

"Glenn" Mark spat, venomous eyes never wavering in there glare "Where is he?"

"How'd you find me?" the bastard had the balls to look offended.

"Better question" Mark took a step forward, getting his brother to back up into the kitchen table "Where's…my…boy?"

"Where do you think?" Kane hissed, tossing the bottle at his brother. Mark ducked past it, advancing quickly on the other. The thicker man dodged around the table, the brothers ending up on either side.

"I'm in no mood to mess with you" Mark growled, bracing his hands on the table "You never could accept your punishment like a man!"

"If you didn't take all the best toys, we wouldn't be in this mess" Kane taunted back, both circling the table like jungle cats.

Mark smirked, "Jealous bastard."

Kane's lips twisted up in a snarl, "Selfish ass!"

They circled the table once more, eyes locked the entire time.

"This isn't even about Phil!" Mark roared, jolting the table irately (sending a shock of fear through his brother) "This is about _you_! You being a hateful monster! It's about you taking away all that I have just because you are incapable of creating something of your own!"

They circled again, the bald brother ending up with his back to the living room.

"Your whore was tight" Kane snarled, an evil smirk curling his lips "And he screeched like a bitch when I took him. Are you sure you fucked him enough?"

Just when Mark was about to jump over the table and rip his brother's vocal chords out, Miz leapt onto the monster's back with a running start. He gave a grunt, latching onto him like an octopus, wrapping his arms and legs around his waist and neck securely. Kane roared like a wild horse refusing to be tamed, trying to claw and buck the younger man off.

With one swift movement, Mike jabbed the syringe into the Big Red Machine's neck and pushed down the plunger. The liquid poured into the nearly seven foot man's body, lacing into his blood and into his very veins. The man growled, staggering backward with all his strength into the wall.

Miz yelped pathetically as he was slammed into the wall, all the breath leaving him as he fell limply from the monster's back and to the floor.

Kane whirled around, glaring down at the young man who'd jabbed him. He put a hand to his neck briefly, looking down at his palm for blood but finding none.

"What the fuck was that, you little shit?!" Kane wrapped a thick hand around his throat, hauling him high on his knees and looking down into his wide-eyed face "You flamboyant bitch, I'll-"

Kane wheezed as an arm wrapped around his neck, finding himself yanked away from the younger man.

"Accept your punishment like the dog you are" Mark growled into his ear, choking his brother while twisting his arm up behind his back to keep him from lashing out again "You will _not_ disrespect my court again."

As his brother started to go down, they heard a frantic scream of _Mike!_ from the other room.

Miz scrambled to his feet, pulling out the other syringe, "Thanks, 'Taker."

"Go!"

Miz obeyed, rushing to the other room.

Randy and John both struggled to keep Dave down, being the strongest of the three. The space was small between the railing and the wall, they didn't have a lot of room to maneuver. Cena kept taking cheap shots, and he was this pissed without seeing Ted. Shawn was trying to flip the Animal over, hoping that if he was on his belly he'd be easier to maintain.

Miz got to the stairs, nearly slapping into the wall with his rush. Out of breath, he climbed the stairs and got himself between Randy and John.

"Get off me!" Batista roared, thrashing like the animal he was. He was screaming obscenities, cursing them and everything they stood for.

"Shut up, you fucking piece of shit!" Cena yelled back at him, straining to keep just one arm down as well as his upper body "You betrayed us! Now fucking take it like a man!"

Dave reared up, getting right in the younger man's face and smirking, "You're just mad that I got that sweet pussy to scream better than you ever did! And he was fucking sweet to the taste, down to the last _lick_."

"You son of a-!" John found himself dragged back, his leader hooking his arms under his own and taking him from the stairs "No! Let me kill 'im now! Let me do it! I'm gonna fuckin' gut him so good…bet even the fucking _sharks_ wouldn't take him!"

Dave was distracted long enough for Mike to get above him, jabbing the syringe into his neck. The serum worked faster on him, and no sooner did Miz pull the needle out was he starting to drift off. Shawn, Mike, and Shawn held fast…waiting until the man was completely out before getting off of him.

"Let me do it!" John shoved Mark away, glaring at him heatedly "I wanna slit his throat _now_. Fuck getting caught, fucking being careful, I want him dead right _now_!"

"You won't be any good to me behind bars" Mark seized the smaller man by the arm, making him look him in the face "And you can't take care of Ted if you're locked up. We have to be careful. You have to listen to me. There's a time and place for it, and I promise you that you'll get your chance. _Later_."

A brief stare-down made the other submit, lowering his eyes to the floor.

"Now go find your boy."

* * *

**That is a horrible place to cut it off, isn't it? But I don't want the next chapter to loose it's meaning by being roped in with a lot of filler.**


	25. Chapter 25

**Both John finding Ted and Mark finding Phil happen at the same time, just so no one gets confused.**

* * *

John trudged over Batista's limp form, resisting the urge to smash his heel down into the man's face. He maneuvered up the stairs, gesturing up when he saw the close was clear.

Randy was the one to follow him, ready to help in any way he could.

With his back up behind him, John continued up into the second story of the house. It seemed so normal, behind it's plain wallpapered walls lay secrets. Now all he had to do was unravel them. Ted had to be somewhere in this house, and from the way Dave came down without a shirt on…he must be up here. The bastard was probably raping him not minutes before they'd arrived.

_If only we'd been faster, if only I'd been smarter…_

It wouldn't help anyone to think like that now. Later, when Ted was safely tucked away in his bed again, would he finally allow himself to break down. He crept along, opening every door along the way. A bathroom, a spare room, a closet…

"John."

He turned, giving Randy a questioning look.

"There" Randy breathed gesturing to the far end of the house. John followed his line of sight, spotting a door that was shut tight. The only difference between this door and the rest of them left was the doorknob…there was blood smeared along the golden surface. Crimson fingerprints across the white-painted surface, along the doorframe, showing that someone had stood there and watched something inside.

Or someone.

John all but ran, twisting the knob roughly and throwing it open. He got a strong scent of blood and sweat, of sex, of torture. The sight on the bed was enough to twist his insides, he could hear Randy gag somewhere behind him.

It was his Teddy, that was for sure. He was bound up on the bed, some kind of collar-leash-leather combo that kept him on his knees, bent over, chest hovering over the bed. His tail laid limply across his legs, curled a bit to show he was in pain, some bits of it tinged with blood. His ears were pinned back, hair and soft fur wet with sweat.

John tried to stay calm, but his frantic run to the bed revealed his anxiety. He let his eyes rove over his pet, trying to get over the shock and get him out of this.

"Teddy…" John murmured, sadly, seeing the wounds and knowing he was too late to save him from the fate he'd feared. Signs of torture branded his body, marring every inch. Welts striped across his thighs and back, thick, some even split to reveal the crimson lurking beneath. He'd seen these type of wounds before, they were made by a flogger. There were mild burns over his chest, along his sides, and when he peered under he saw more severe burns ones along his ribs. Looking like wax had been burned into his flesh. There was a long cut along his pec, small burns around the gash. Dark crimson bites spattered his body, seeming to decorate every spare patch of skin that wasn't stained with any other mar.

Randy saw the locked cuffs, leaving the room when he got an idea.

John tilted back, letting out a hiss as he saw signs of rape. His poor boy, his hole was red and swollen, blood and cum still sticking to his thighs. He was used just recently…the glisten of essence still fresh…

_Batista_.

And there on his pet's neck, hanging down and brushing the sheets…his dog tags.

John took an edge of the sheet, wiping away the excess, ignoring the strained whimper from the boy. Once he was done, he tossed it aside. Hoping to reassure him, he laid a hand along his boy's shoulder, being careful not to brush against any of his wounds. Ted tensed at the contact, a soft sob escaping him. It broke Cena's heart to see his love so broken, so vulnerable.

"Shh, Teddy, it's me" John cooed, fingering the back of the ball gag to figure out how to undo it.

Ted's eyes pried open, more tears spilling as he tried to see if this mirage was real. A muffled _John?_ came from him, confusion on his face. When he felt the buckle start to loosen, relief flooded his features. John's careful fingers eased the leather from his skin with a sick peeling sound, gently easing down his jaw so he could pry the ball gag from his mouth. His lips were slick with saliva, he desperately swallowed down the excess saliva. The once-thin whisker cuts on his cheeks were a bit deeper now from the corner of his mouth to the swell of his apple cheeks. He was flushed, panting desperately, working his jaw hesitantly to make sure he hadn't hurt anything permanently.

John brushed away his love's tears, wishing he could take it all away, "I'm here for you, Teddy. I've got you, kitten."

"Master, please" Ted pleaded, aching for the man to hold him and make everything okay again.

Randy came back in, going over to his friend and slipping him a key, "Batista had it in his pocket."

John nodded, going for the collar first. The key fit, and with one swift turn the leather fell away. He knelt on the bed, easing behind him a bit to work on the other bindings. Soon enough, he discarded the wrist and shin cuffs.

Ted collapsed atop the bed, groaning as the sheets rubbed against his wounds. His wrists were rubbed raw, every muscle ached horribly. He felt his master get off the bed, and he wanted to call out for him. He wanted to beg him not to leave, to forgive him, to hold him. He shifted, trying to sit up, but collapsed with a pathetic whimper. Not only were his muscles sore, they had turned into useless jelly. He could do nothing more than lay in his own filth, the scent of his own burned flesh and the tang of blood filled his mouth, drowning his senses.

A warm quilt was draped over his shoulders, soothing and covering his chilled skin. He shuddered at the contact, large hands gripping his arms softly and easing him up into a sitting position. He protested for a moment, but stopped when a kiss was brushed across his neck.

"It's just me, kitten" John crooned, wrapping the large blanket around his pet's bare form "I've got you, I've got you from now on. You're safe."

Ted curled his arms weakly around his master's neck, eyes falling closed, "B-Batista…"

"I know" John assured him, keeping his tone light as he picked his boy up bridal style "He won't touch you again."

Ted was glad his master was here for him at last, that he still wanted to touch him. He didn't have the energy to do more than nose at the base of his neck, to brush chaste kisses on the exposed skin above his collar. He wanted to be home _now_, but he had a feeling home was a long way away.

John's broken heart mended as his boy showed him affection, dropping a kiss into his hair in return. He carried Ted out of there, hoping that Undertaker had planned for this. He hadn't known what to expect, but he didn't think it was this bad. He got to the top of the steps, scowling when he saw Dave still lying there.

"Move this big lug, will ya?" John demanded, glad to see Randy and Mike both grab a leg and yank the Animal down the rest of the stairs "Where's Shawn?"

Miz gasped as he caught sight of the cuts and bite welts shoving above the blanket, "_Fuck_! Is he alright?"

"I hope so" John looked down into his dozing baby's face, then back to the Orton "Where's 'Taker and Shawn?"

Randy was a little pale, "They found Phil."

**xXx**

While John headed upstairs for his pet, Mark went in search of his own. He went through the whole first level of the house, checking every room but coming up short. There was no hidden hall, no mysterious blood patterns, no _anything_ that would tell him where Phil was. He went full rotation, ending up right back in the kitchen. But he was a smart man, and when he found a remote on the counter, he knew Phil was close. He slipped the device into his back pocket, knowing he'd need it.

Very close.

Mark started searching the wall, feeling along every crevice and bump. If his brother was anything like him, he was just as sneaky and mysterious.

At last, he found a door shaped indent along the side of the staircase. Surely he hadn't kept Phil under the stairs?! That bastard! He found the middle of the cut space with his palms, applying pressure until it sunk in. It slid onto a track, which allowed him to push it aside. The hall light spilled past him, revealing a staircase.

"A fuckin' cellar?" Mark growled, looking over his shoulder at his brother's limp form "A real heartless pig, aren't you?"

There was no light to turn on, all he had was the light from above. With a thought of his love, he took the first step. He took the stairs slowly, letting his eyes adjust, tensing as he realized how cold it was down here. If he weren't _the_ Phenom, it would've been a rather frightening place. Cement walls, no light, cold temperature…

Mark descended all the way down, the rest of the cellar coming into view. What he saw made his stomach clench, The Undertaker himself…felt ill and disgusted. There was a single mattress at the far side of the cellar, dirty and bare except for a single form stretched out along it. A pale figure, almost glowing except for stains of ink on their skin. Dark hair, dark lacquer nails biting into the surface of the mattress.

Mark took long strides across the cement floor, eating up the distance with his long legs. He knelt gracefully beside the bed, looking over the broken body of his pet. His brother had taken his trunks from him, leaving him bare except for his kickpads. They were the only scrap of clothing he had left, leaving nothing for his modesty. Thick cuffs wrapped around his forearms, chains latched to them and leading into the wall. He physically ached seeing his pet sunk so low, but it hurt worse to see the raw burn along his back. The flesh was raw, white in some places, and it would scar horribly.

The stench of vinegar lingering in the air told Mark all he needed to know.

_Lye_.

//That's low, even for you, brother.//

The only comfort he took from this was the slow, even breathing he could see. Phil was alive.

"Phillip…" Mark murmured lowly, letting his palm drop down to cover the back of his pet's neck. He stroked the raven strands aside, sighing as he touched chilled skin. He saw the ink there, his symbol, and he knew he had to get his boy out of here as soon as possible.

Soft footsteps echoed behind him, signaling his right hand man, "Damn, 'Taker…"

Mark opened his mouth to give a command, but his throat was dry. He cleared his, wet his lips, then tried again.

"Get me a towel" Mark stated "And a blanket.."

Shawn nodded though his leader couldn't see him, making his way back up the stairs.

"Phil?" Mark inquired, stroking back his boys inky locks to reveal his pale face "Wake up, now."

"Mark?" Phil breathed, eyelashes fluttering against his cheek. It took some time for him to rouse from the deep sleep he'd slipped into, but the warm strokes down his arms and through his hair helped bring him around. He was still shivering lightly, waking to realize his stomach was cramping from hunger and his mouth was dry. He groaned in pain, trying to curl up on himself, but stinging pain shot up his spine.

Olive eyes cracked open, finding none other than his master's face looking down on him.

"There's my prince" Mark tried for a smile, but he couldn't quite do it. Phil was peering up at him so innocently, looking like he did that time years ago when it was just the two of them in the dressing room.

"_If you want me, then have me. If I were to submit to anyone, it would be you."_

"Master" Phil tried to sit up, but he couldn't.

"Don't" Mark cupped the back of his head, getting a sweet whine of relief from his boy "Don't move. You're hurt."

"Sorry" Phil murmured, already slipping off.

Shawn came back down the stairs, both items in hand. He came up behind his leader, offering him the towel first. Mark accepted it, making sure the fluffy fabric was clean before unfolding it. He laid it along his pet's back, using it as a makeshift bandage until he could get it properly looked at. Next he wrapped his nearly naked shivering pet in the warm blanket, pulling him into a sitting position.

Phil's head drooped a bit, but he arched and screamed when his master laid a hand on his back, "Oh God, p-please don't…don't…"

"Hush now, my boy, I've got you" Mark rumbled, his voice soothing the younger man. After a moment, he decided he couldn't carry him any other way. He was strong enough, Punk was light enough, it would work.

"Come here" Mark pulled him into his arms, hooking his arms under his legs and pulling him into his lap like a child "Hold tightly, boy, or I'll drop you."

Phil mumbled something that sounded like an apology into his neck, obeying and clinging to his master with all his strength. With a soft humph, Mark stood and kept his boy tight to his body. It was easy, it seemed his pet had lost a few pounds. After his body getting used to eating and working out at regular intervals, the dramatic change had sent Phil's body into overdrive and he'd burned off any excess fat. A handful of pounds, but enough to make a difference. His nude form was covered by the blankets, his master's body heat only warming him further.

Shawn moved out of the way, letting his leader do as he pleased, //Poor boy…//

**xXx**

Miz and Randy had worked together, managing to load Kane's heavy body in one Hummer and that steroid-induced turncoat Batista into the other. John stood in the living room, refusing to set his pet down for a moment. He watched Mark ascend from the cellar, a blanket-clad punk in his arms.

"We can't take them on a plane" John blurted out as the other two masters came inside again, Shawn following his leader up from the basement.

"You're right" Mark admitted, his love's arms tightening around his neck "We could drive if we had to."

"That's roughly…two hundred and sixty miles back…divided by…" Randy struggled, he wasn't much of a match person "Roughly sixty miles per hour on wheels. How long would that take?"

You could practically hear the sound of tax-calculators above all their heads, none were in a state to think of math of all thing. They were men of action, of health, wrestling, physical activity.

"Four hours…thirty three minutes" Ted murmured, picking his head up off his master's shoulder and sniffing "Do I smell raw flesh?"

The sweet-scent met his nose, and when he looked over to Punk he knew.

"Oh God" Ted moaned, tears coming to his eyes "I-Is he okay? H-He was in the house?"

"Shhh, kitten" John soothed him, glancing up at his leader "Your call."

"We'll drive" Mark decided without any real hesitation, he couldn't take the two injured subs out into public like this "We'll head for Matt's house after we get rid of the baggage."

They agreed, that was the plane of action

"Shawn, Randy…you drive."

"Should we…I don't know" Mike peered around the house "Should we burn it down?"

"The house?" Shawn parroted, amazed by the youngest's proposal.

"There's blood evidence everywhere" Miz explained "In the basement, the upstairs…"

"We don't need to worry about any questions" Mark carried his pet towards the door, a grim expression on his face "All we need to worry about is what's in the trunk of those cars. All our concerns…are for where their bodies will go."

**xXx**

They were back on the road soon enough, heading for quiet cemetery. Twilight was just starting to fall, giving them plenty of time. It was like a macabre countdown, each minute that ticked off was one less minute of life that the unconscious men had left.

Mark sat in the back of the SUV, his pet half laying on him. He kept a firm arm around his waist, letting him get the sleep he so desperately needed. He was still shivering a bit, and Mark could feel his rubs a bit more than he used to.

Kane's body was in the back, unaware and unable to harm them.

Mark let his fingers dance over his pet's cheek, surprised to find the skin slick. He tilted Phil's head up, peering down to see his boy was silently crying.

"Phil?" he inquired, fearing that there was another pain in his boy that he'd somehow missed.

" 'M sorry" Phil murmured, voice raspy and eyes still clenched shut "I let him…h-he…I tried to be strong for you, for the others, like you told m-me to be…but then he poured that shit on me, and I just couldn't do it anymore…I-" Phil bit out the next word, tasting venom on his tongue "-_submitted_ to him. God, it hurt so much."

Mark gave a heavy sigh, realizing his worst fear. His pet who had known only his intimate touch had been soiled by his brother, taken carelessly in an act of revenge. Kane wouldn't have found it in his cold heart to appreciate his sub's masculine beauty, to take care not to ruin him, he must've been torn horribly. Never once had he been too rough with his prince, but his bastard of a brother seen fit to rape what wasn't his to touch.

"I betrayed you" Phil dropped his eyes, he couldn't bear the thought of his master hating him. Would Mark find him disgusting? Discard him? Nothing else in the world mattered more -not his pain, not his career- than Mark's love.

"No, Phil, you didn't" Mark assured him, carding his fingers gently through raven hair "You're mine, and you'll always be mine. He took advantage of you at your weakest, it's nothing to be ashamed of. Did you fight as hard as you could?"

"_He'll find all of you. He's going to slaughter all you sick fucks."_

Phil nodded, thinking of how he had resisted Kane's blatant advances.

"Then hush" Mark cradled the back of his pet's neck with one large palm, letting him rest on his shoulder.

"The others…Cody…." Phil muttered, recalling what Kane had said to him "Are they hurt too? Is Ted okay?"

"They're hurt, but fine" Mark struggled to explain "Cody was-"

"-pregnant" Punk sighed, hating that he already knew "The baby?"

Shawn tensed a bit, glancing into the rearview mirror to get a view of Randy behind them.

Mark closed his eyes, "Lost."

"Bastards" the Straightedge groaned, heart breaking for the boy "All of them."

"Rest."

Phil obeyed, burying his face in his master's chest and drifting off a bit. Mark pulled the blanket further around his muscular frame, making sure his pet was warm enough and well covered. He'd need more peaceful sleep before could eat or drink, his body was struggling to adapt back to heat and comfort. Later he'd make sure Punk's belly was full…but now, all he could offer was his touch.

And safety.

In the other Hummer, Randy was at the wheel with a rather nervous Miz beside him.

"We're really gong to kill them?" Mike inquired for the fourth time since they'd left.

"Stone-cold dead" Randy replied in a hushed tone, conscious of the sleeping sub they had in the vehicle. John was in the back coddling his pet, letting him stretch his long body all out along the seat. His head was in his master's lap, his legs flexing gratefully along the leather surface. After being bound up for days, his body was begging to stretch. Though all sides of him were marred, he'd slept on his back, quilt pillowing out any friction between his skin and the seat.

John was gazing down at him in lovingly, though his thoughts were all jumbled and his emotions were in disarray. How could he have let Ted fall into Batista's hands? Why did he let him out of his sight? If he'd have smashed Dave's skull in years ago when he first touched Ted, none of this would've happened. He should've spoken out more against Batista's membership, done more to convict him…

John was tracing his own dog tags around his boy's neck, memorizing the sensation of the cold metal and the blonde's hot skin.

"He never took them off me, I think it some kinda mind-fuck trick" Ted drawled, the older man was surprised that he was awake "…I knew you'd come for me."

"I wish I would've gotten to you sooner" John trailed his hand up into his love's golden tresses, brushing his thumb along the back of a feline ear "All the things he did to you…I wanted to save you."

"You did" Ted's eyes fluttered open, revealing his corn-silk blue treasures "I knew you'd get there…but I couldn't stop him."

"You fought, and that's all I could ask" John smiled a little, so glad to have his pet back in his arms "My strong-willed Teddy…I saw the blood and I knew you'd fought him with everything you had. I've never seen anyone as tough as you, kitten."

He breathed in his master's masculine scent, scowling suddenly when he smelled Batista's odor still clinging to his skin.

"I can smell him on me" Ted's voice broke "I'm sorry."

"I'll get you in a bath soon" John promised.

Ted actually managed to smile back, the corners of his lips stinging from the cuts on his face, "He couldn't break me…I didn't let him…"

//Just once// Ted's eyes fell closed again, it hurt too much to keep them open //But Brett's in a better place…and he'd want me to be happy.//

"Where's Cody?" Ted whispered, glad when his master tugged the blanket up a bit over his bare chest.

In the front seat, Randy fidgeted.

"You'll see him soon" John promised, feeling horrible for his best friend "You'll see everyone soon. We've got a few hours ahead of us."

Ted nodded, understanding.

His stomach growled rather loudly, making Miz stifle a snicker.

"…Master?"

"Yeah, kitten?"

"I'm sorry" Ted opened an eye, an apologetic smile on his face "But I'm starving."

"I'll get you something soon" John swore, stroking his fingers through his hair again to calm his own nerves.

Ted snuggled further into his master's lap, indulging in his touch. He had been forgetting how good he had it with John, and he wasn't about to let this opportunity go. He wanted a bath and some food, but he was too exhausted to fulfill either desire.

For now, being petted and loved by his master was enough.

**xXxXxXx**

A half hour later, when the sun was setting on small town in Georgia, John Cena was found himself in a small gas station just a dozen miles from the desired cemetery. He had a few water bottles, Pepsi, and some granola bars. He couldn't start the boys off on something too harsh, he needed to give them healthy energy, not sugar or caffeine.

But Mark insisted to get a Pepsi, just in case.

The clerk looked over the selection, then rang them up one by one, "Taking a trip?"

"You could say that" John gave the young man a smile, shelling out the bills for the food. They were bagged, and given to with an equal smile.

"There you go, sir."

"Thanks, kid."

* * *

**Yes! The boys are back where they belong! Now let's feed those poor babies and kill their attackers!**


	26. Chapter 26

**I realize I don't use real words. I've coined horrible words like 'obsessable' and 'literaturly', and I use stuff like 'boredly' and 'beseechment'. I'm sorry if I like the sound of words more than I respect grammar. **

**I ask you to forgive that. I'm not sorry, cause it's fun, but…ya know, look over it.**

* * *

Night fell thickly on St. Micheal's cemetery, a small establishment way off the main road. No stars shown in the sky, even the moon had decided to sit this one out. At the gate of the graveyard sat two dark SUV's, silent except for the shuffling of the two sleeping men inside. The blonde cat-boy was half curled up on the back seat of one, his master's jacket providing a well enough pillow. The other, the badly burned ravenette, was stretched out on his belly, a fresh towel now covering his wound under his blanket.

Empty water bottles and wrappers littered the floor, their bellies full.

Both were warm, lost in restful sleep, unaware.

**xXx**

Kane sputtered awake, freezing water thrown in his face. His head ached from the tranquilizers, and when he tried to move he found his arms bound with rope, handcuffs around his wrists to make sure he didn't muscle out of them. He was on his knees, and he was facing an equally bound and rudely awoken Dave Bautista.

Behind him was a _very _pissed off John Cena.

Kane felt someone behind him as well, and from the horrified look on Dave's face, it must've been his brother. He peered around carefully, letting his eyes adjust, only to find they were on their knees in cemetery dirt.

"Are all the dramatics really necessary, Mark?" Kane drawled, even though he was terrified.

"Yes" came the cold reply, that steely voice pouring over him like lead "What you did was unforgivable, and I can't think of any better end for you than at my hand."

"I raped your bitch, I tried to destroy your court, and I may have played a major role in destroying the lives of eight whores" Kane spat callously, knowing his brother was all show and no bite "We never _killed_ anyone."

"Not for lack of trying" Mark towered over his brother, delighting in the shudder that wracked the fearsome man's form "You starved and raped my boy. You isolated him completely, and the only contact you could spare was pain and assault. You have no grounds for which to defend yourself. What you did was monstrous and you deserve to be slaughtered like one."

"You don't have the balls to kill me" Kane scoffed "I've always been the stronger of us."

Nearby, standing in line with Randy and Mike, Shawn snickered softly. Kane and Dave both looked to the rest of the Court, finding them standing nearby and thick gloves and thick black windbreakers. John was dressed the same, all of them were smudged with dirt, staining them from their boots to their gloves.

That could only mean one thing…

"I'm not going to draw out your death, brother, not like the others will" Mark put his hands on the man's shoulders, he winced at the content "You'd enjoy bringing out my bloodlust, wouldn't you? You'd love to see me fall to your level."

Kane couldn't help but smirk, "You're already at my level."

"You see, _this_ is why you couldn't be a master" Mark growled, digging his fingertips into the monster's muscles "You've never cared about anything but yourself, and you can't stand when others have something you don't. You can't be fixed, and I'm done trying."

"You can't do this" Dave's jaw clenched, glaring at Undertaker with a weak fire in his dark eyes "We're titans in the industry, you can't just…_kill us_! Someone will find out, someone's who not afraid of you will turn you in to the - _Jesus Christ_!"

Dave wailed, ducking his head as Mark shot his brother in the back of the head. It had been one swift movement, done in seconds, silenced but effective. Batista watched in horror as Kane's very skull shattered, a spew of grey matter and crimson bathing the grass before him. His mighty body went limp, one swift kick from Mark had the corpse sprawled across the ground.

"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" Batista roared, his legs were numb but the rest of him was in overdrive "You just fucking killed him! Are you all fucking insane?!"

Mark carefully wipe the gun clean with a cloth, his own leather clad hands speckled with dark droplets, "I'm an old-fashioned man. I don't believe in drawing out death."

"You're all crazy!" Dave struggled to get up, but the solid weight of Cena's hand on the back of his neck kept him still "Cena, damn it, I didn't hurt him that bad!"

"Yeah, Dave, ya did" John leant down, his chin almost resting on the man's shoulder "Can you run?"

The question confused the hell out of The Animal, of course he could run. He tried to get up again, but found he couldn't. His feet, his legs…they wouldn't move, they wouldn't obey. He couldn't even flex his toes!

"Paralyzed" John confirmed his fears "I slipped some hemlock into your tranquilizer. What do you think? Effective, huh?"

Dave paled, sweat starting to bead on his brow as his heart rate picked up, "You wouldn't…"

John pulled away, crooking his finger at Mike, "Come on, kid, I need help with this big guy."

Dave was sure he was the 'big guy', but Miz strode right past him. He went up to the other side of Kane's corpse, grabbing his ankles obediently. With a mighty grunt, John lifted him by his shoulders. Together, with Mark watching, they carried the body over to one of the unmarked graves. The dirt was piled high beside both open holes, just ready to be used. They'd killed a half hour digging them earlier.

"Shit, he's heavy" Miz complained through grit teeth.

"Yeah, and he's leaking all over my new kicks" John griped, peering into the hole "On three. Aim for the box."

//Box?// Dave wondered, though he could feel the poison creeping up his thighs.

Counting silently, the men tossed Kane's lifeless body into the ground, landing almost perfectly inside the pine box they'd pre-placed there. Miz reached behind a headstone a few feet away, producing a lid. He walked over to the open grave, aiming carefully before throwing it down. It landed right on top.

"Nice" John waved a hand at Randy "You got this?"

"Yeah" Randy started over toward his best friend, but paused in front of Batista. He looked him over, a shadow dancing across his face as he recalled how the man had treated him. How he had helped Hunter almost rape Cody, how he had succeeded in Raping Ted. And then that betrayed so long ago, playing his friend before trying to ruin his career.

Mark tasted the hatred flowing off his favored, a smirk twisting his lips, "Help John, Randall. I'll take care of my dear brother."

Randy nodded, glaring down at the Animal, "You're gong to burn."

"I'm glad you lost your child, you worthless piece of shit!" Batista growled as the man started to walk away, not caring for his life when he could feel his lower body dying on him "Any bastard of yours is bound for failure! He'd be just another piece of ass, another pretty-boy whore like his father! That's all you'd raise, Orton! Another slut for men like me!"

Randy paused in step, closing his eyes. But he didn't let it get to him, he couldn't. This wasn't his revenge to have, it was all about John tonight. He grabbed a shovel off the ground, hefting it into his palm. He slung it over his neck, curling both his hands around it and balancing it firmly across his shoulders.

John walked back over to Batista, a smirk growing on his face. The Animal watched with wide eyes as Undertaker and Miz went to work with shovels of their own, beginning to bury the boxed corpse six feet down. They didn't even spare him a glance as they began fill the depth with shovelfuls of graveyard dirty.

"You know, I was gonna gut you" John drawled, seizing the man by the ropes binding his arms and tugging hard. Batista fell backwards, swallowing down a yelp as his shoulders were all but pulled out of place. He found himself dragged across through the dirt, arms threatening to pop right out of their sockets.

"I was gonna gut you and toss you off a pier" John effortlessly pulled the man along, a smirk growing on his face as the other groaned in pain from the force and the slow death of his limbs " The thought of you trying to shove your organs back inside your belly was _way_ too tempting. Or slit your throat."

Pain slithered up Dave's belly, inching toward his lungs.

"I never thought you'd have it in you to torture Ted the way you did, trussing him up like some back house trollop" John dropped the man inches from the grave, circling around his large form like a panther "I saw the looks you gave him, Dave…I knew you wanted him. You've tried to take him before, but I let my guard down, didn't I?"

John looked up at his leader, then back at the Animal, "Some thought you deserved a chance. I agreed."

His gaze turned hard, his voice like gravel, "We were wrong."

Dave writhed in pain, letting out a pained grunt as his ribs cramped up horribly.

"I also saw the burns, the cuts, the _bites_" John hissed, dropping to a knee and leaning over his court's betrayer "You marked up my pretty kitty real good, didn't you? Think that makes you strong? Think that makes you even _half_ the man I am? You've always been a pathetic, stupid thing…"

John leaned down further, locking eyes with the man who had tried to destroy his boy, "…but you've outdone yourself with this stunt."

Batista snapped his teeth at the man, the only weapon he had left. John grinned in amusement, pulling back gracefully.

"Well, if you're gonna be rude…"

"Wait! Come on, Cena!" Batista pleaded, the younger man grabbing him by the ropes on his arms and dragging him forward again "Don't! You wouldn't! You're a better man than this!"

John's smirk didn't fade, he hauled the man rather easily over the edge. He let him fall gracefully, trying not to laugh obscenely loud when he tumbled over and down into his new dirt home. Sure, he kicked and called out, but it did him no good. He landed in the pine box with a heavy thump, shoulders striking first.

"Cena!" he barked, terror creeping into his tone.

John snatched up the last shovel on the ground, looking over to see Shawn just standing there with his hands shoved deep into his windbreaker.

"What's with this, old man?" John teased, heart feeling light as Batista's panicked screams rang through the empty graveyard "You're not going to help?"

"Hey, I helped dig those things" Shawn nodded towards the graves "My knees aren't what they used to be. I've done enough, dontcha think?"

John held up his palms in surrender, though his smirk turned softer. He turned to Randy and gave him a nod, signaling the go ahead. Randy swung the shovel down, spiking it into the dirt. John did the same on the other side, both making sure to get a good first scoop. They dumped it into the grave, pulling more protests from the man below.

It all turned into meaningless babble, a constant flow of ridiculous bargaining for a life that wasn't worth anything to any of them. The best friends settled into a nice rhtyhm, continuing to dump one pile after another upon the raving animal. They covered his legs, working his way up.

Randy paused suddenly, surprising the other.

"Rand?"

"If Cody can get pregnant, so can Ted" Randy whispered, eyes widening in horror "The doctor said they were there most fertile at around twenty-eight…Ted's twenty-six, right? What if…I mean, I know this fucker didn't use a condom."

John's eyes rounded as well, mind going on overdrive. His shovel dropped to the grass, his hands going to the edge of the grave. He hopped down, feet going on either side of the bigger man, and he bent down to get in his face again.

"Did Ted respond to you?" John spat, the words sour on his tongue.

Batista held strong, though his eyes were bloodshot and watery.

"Answer me!" John roared, striking the heel of his palm into the older man's abdomen. The pain made him almost whimper, bringing the truth forth in the form of a shake of the head.

"…he was a sack of grain…"

John stood up, eyes falling shut as he accepted this and thought it over. He turned, holding out his hand and using the other to grab the side. Randy pulled him up, between both their strengths he was easily back on the surface.

"The Doc said that our boys go through 'heat' when their fertile, it would've made him hot for even that piece of shit" John grabbed his shovel "I'd like to think I'd know if my Teddy was carrying that bastard's seed."

Randy had to agree, the only reason he hadn't noticed was probably because it'd been his child.

Down in the grave, Batista started sputtering.

"Wow, the poison reached your lungs that fast?" John laced his fingers over the end of the shovel, resting his chin on them "That's some fast shit, isn't it?"

"Would you quit playin' with your prey?" Shawn shuffled impatiently "It's freezing balls out here."

"Yeah, we're halfway done" Miz grunted, lifting his shovel again.

Mark hadn't even broken a sweat, "Come on, boy, put your back in it."

Randy and John shared a smirk, and then went back to work. They listened as Batista desperately gasped for breath, but they didn't spare him a look. With each scoop of earth, a further sense of satisfaction welled in his chest. He was quite proud of the death he'd planned out for this man, and he only wished he had done it sooner.

Shawn looked about, getting more anxious with each moment they were there, "So, how 'bout those Mets?"

"Calm down" Mark rumbled, his brother's grave halfway full "We won't be here much longer."

"I'm a good Christian, Mark, at least I try to be" Shawn began hurriedly "This don't sit right with me. I mean, couldn't we have done this somewhere else?"

Miz paused to wipe his brow, a look of disbelief on his face, "You're upset about the _location_?"

"Well yeah" Shawn shrugged "These assholes deserve it. But what about these good people buried all around us? Do you think they appreciate this?"

"It's the most discreet place" Mark pointed out, used to his friend's strange tendencies.

Shawn couldn't argue anymore, he didn't have it in him.

John waited for the little nagging voice in his head to scold him, he waited for his always-good conscious to kick in. But it never did. If he had any doubts, all he had to do was think back to what his pet had looked like when he found him. Bound, gagged, crying…burned, cut…

No, his conscious stayed quiet for all this.

And when his ears picked up the man's last strangled breath, John picked up the pace.

It took almost an hour, but they got the graves filled.

Miz collapsed on the grass, sprawled out on his back with his shovel in his hand. He was panting, chest heaving and face scrunched up in discomfort.

"You okay there, Mizzy?" Randy taunted lightly, a little out of breath himself.

"I…I can toss a guy out of the ring…but I'm from Ohio, we don't…dig graves. We hire Mexicans for that shit" Miz panted roughly, cracking open an eye "This is bullshit."

Shawn snickered at the boy's dramatic nature, snatching a trash bag off the ground. He shook it out, making sure it was unfolded before holding it open. One by one, the guys shed their jackets and gloves and dumped them into it. Once the blood evidence was gone, and the gun was dropped in the bag as well, Shawn tied it off and took the shovels.

"Kid!"

Miz, who had started to sit back down, groaned and got to his feet. He hurried past HBK, opening up the trunk door of the Hummer for the man. The evidence was tossed in the back, ready to be burned later.

"Let's head back" Mark didn't even look back as he headed to the driver's side door "Someone call Matt, tell him to get the doctor ready for when we arrive.

**xXxXxXx**

"I hate Kevin Bacon."

"But Kiefer Sutherland is hot."

"I hate Kevin Bacon."

"The plot's cool."

John threw his arm over his eyes, groaning, "I. _Hate_. Kevin. Bacon."

Jake snickered at this, sitting on a nearby chair and stretching his long legs out in front of him, "What does it matter? They're all old now."

"Hey!" Jeff protested, he had been the one to pick the movie "We'll all be that old one day. Jay's already pushing it."

Jay was belly down beside Evan on the bed, he tossed his pillow of his best friend, "Fuck you, Skittles."

_Flatliners_ played on the big screen, a good movie that made a decent audio-filler when half the room was trying to sleep. Evan and Cody were both half covered up on the bed, fast asleep. They had all changed into sweatpants and t-shirts earlier, comfortable clothes. There was no need to impress anyone here, they were among friends.

Jay rolled onto his back with a huff, eyes straying to ravenette beside him. His lips quirked up into a small smile, reaching out and pulling the blanket up over Evan's back. The boy looked so innocent lying there, dark lashes fluttering and shell pink lips parted for soft, even breaths. His mother used to tell him that freckles were kisses from angels, so Evan must have been very beloved in Heaven. The boy was just covered in them, dusted all along his cheeks and shoulders.

"I can't imagine being this young…" Jay sat up, looking between Evan and Cody "Having either of them go through this torture, let alone both…it's unfathomable."

"They're strong" Jeff pointed out.

"Still…" Jay trailed off, watching as Cody's tail flicker up suddenly. Just like a cat's would, it slithered across the covers over his legs before finally settling in a curl.

"They're so young" he whispered, lashes dropping half-mast.

"We were that young once too, Jay-Jay" Jeff teased, crawling down from the couch and across the bed. Keeping on his hands and knees, he rested his chin on the blonde's shoulder.

"Don't you remember?" Jeff inquired, not getting a response from his best friend. He tilted his head down, biting playfully at the blonde's shoulder. Jay tried not to smile, but he couldn't help laughing at the puppy-like behavior. He shoved at the Enigma, but the Baby Hardy was insistent.

John watched from his pace on the couch as the two old friends started half-wrestling on the other side of the bed of the sleeping boys. They were careful with each other, Jay minding Jeff's wounds, until the Hardy finally pinned the blonde. They did a horrible job of stifling their laughter. John loved watching the two of them together, it was a kind of love he didn't see very often. It wasn't "true, forbidden sub-love" like John had always teased them about, but it was a deep friendship.

Jeff leant down and kissed his friend, both smiling softly.

"Matt, they're doing it again!" John called loudly, grunting when a cushion smacked him in the face "What?"

Jake glared, "Thut up, they're th-leeping."

John bit back a 'Sylvester' comment, knowing this wasn't the time for that kind of hard teasing.

Matt was leaning against the doorway to the kitchen, watching with a smile on his face, "Boys…"

Jeff chuckled warmly, burying his face in his friend's neck. Jay did the same, hiding his wide grin in the younger man's faded violet hair. The shower he'd taken earlier had exposed most of the natural blonde through the Kool-Aid color.

Chris came up behind Matt, all but whispering in his ear, "Is the doctor coming?"

"He'll be here soon" Matt replied, his tone hushed as well and hidden by the sound of the TV "How far away are they?"

"Minutes, but Mike's text" Chris sighed in frustration "I want his life _now_, Matt."

"I know, Chrissy" Matt faux-crooned.

Chris dropped his forehead onto the ravenette's shoulder, "Vince is going to kill us."

"Then it's good for us our prey's in the TNA cesspool, huh Chrissy?"

Chris was about to grind out a reply, but his head shot up like a startled cat. There was a grind of gravel in the driveway, announcing the arrival of the others. The two masters froze, almost afraid of the results. So many thoughts went through their heads. What if Phil or Ted had been seriously injured when they arrived? What if their court had been ambushed? Was everyone okay? Had anyone died?

Matt rushed forward, taking strides across the living room and to the front door. He opened it moments before Mark approached, a blanket-clad figure in his arms. The large man entered the Hardy home, a solemn expression on his face. He started toward the stairs, but stopped at the very base.

"Is the doctor here?" Mark inquired, turning with his punk still in his arms.

"He's on his way" Matt promised, John coming up the walkway with his own blanket-clad pet "Are they okay?"

"They'll live" Shawn sighed, stepping through the threshold.

Jeff eased off the bed, emerald eyes wide as he got a glimpse of his enemy's face, "Phil?"

Cody suddenly inhaled deeply, catching his master's distinct scent the moment he walked in the door. That, and Ted's. His eyes popped open, all senses going on high alert. He sat up, peering past the couch to see John walking in with Ted wrapped up in his arms. He looked pale, violent bite marks visible on his neck, on all the areas visible past the folds of the quilt cocooned around his body.

"Master?" Cody carefully got to his feet, being mindful of his stomach. Randy looked over to his pet, smiling weakly.

"While we're waitin'…" Matt brushed past the other two, heading up the stairs "They can have the spare rooms up here. You got 'em?"

Mark headed up after the darker Hardy, being careful with his pet. John knew he promised his pet a bath first, so he was going to make good on his promise before he left.

"Phil…" Jeff walked toward the stairs like a zombie, only stopping when he felt his best friend's arms gently coil around his waist "Jay-Jay, what happened?"

"Later, Skittles" Jay kept his love still, letting the masters do what they had to "After our masters are gone and the doctor's looked them over, when it's just us…you can go see him."

"I've been so horrible to him" Jeff's lower lip quivered, he put his fingers to his mouth to stop it "I've said…just shitty things. I took his belt, and all he's wanted is that stupid belt…"

"You wanted it to" Jay dropped a kiss in his hair, trying to sooth him "That's the in-ring world. Forget about that, you both knew it was business."

Jeff hung back, blinking back those fucking annoying tears, "…I don't hate him…"

"I know."

Randy went over to his pet, leaning in to briefly whisper in his ear, "Ted's going to need you now more than ever."

* * *

**It took the masters about two days to do that, so they were gone just two days. Can you imagine Matt and Chris in a house alone for two days with ALL the subs? Poor guys.**

**ALSO! I was re-reading Cody's Story and I realize I made a lot of spelling mistakes. I fixed them for those of you who were bugged by them, just to let you know that I do EVENTUALLY catch the mistakes I make. Sometimes I think I really should get a proper Beta.**


	27. Chapter 27

**I know I'm getting a little crazy with the page breaks, try to stay with me here. It's night time again, if you didn't know. I'm not even trying to fuck with hours anymore, my head hurts trying to keep a proper timeline going. **

* * *

Punk laid out on his belly on the bed, above the covers and on a towel. The kind doctor with a careful touch was at his side, applying burn cream all over his back. He had his arms folded under his head, eyes calmly laid upon his master. His wrists were bandaged, rubbed-raw welts underneath, and his ribs as well (Kane had bruised them pretty madly.) Mark was hovering just a few feet behind the doctor, filling up the room with his very presence. Shawn was leaning against the doorframe, eyes straight ahead.

The country doctor had given him a mild sedative, turning his pain dial down a few notches.

"Well, Mr. Callaway, the lye didn't poison his system" the doctor continued to apply the cream, though he was talking to Undertaker "It'll scar, but I have cream I can give you to minimize the damage. I'll leave this bottle as well, it needs to be applied two times a day until the burns cover over. Keep them bandaged, if they get infected…"

"I understand" Mark stated, arms crossed over his chest "Can you leave us some painkillers?"

"Of course" the doctor pulled away, taking off his dirtied gloves before snapping on a new pair. He started applying a large rectangular gauze over the punk's burned back, Phil hissed at the slight pressure. "I'm sorry."

" 'S okay" Phil slurred, idly playing his teeth over his silver lip ring.

Mark watched as the doctor gently taped down the edges of the bandage, keeping it secure.

"Shawn" his name got HBK's attention "Where's Adam?"

"Outside, having a smoke."

"Bring him in. Gather all the masters downstairs in the dining room. We've got…matters to discuss."

Shawn nodded obediently, slipping silently out of the room.

**xXx**

The bathroom was steamed up, Ted had demanded he made the water as hot as possible. The blonde was now laid out in the full tub, body stretched out in the hot water, head tilted back against the wall. He was panting lightly, but little moans of relief also escaped him. He could feel Dave's taint leaving his body, the odor replaced with John's and his own.

John was kneeling on the floor beside the tub, a soapy wash cloth in his hand and his eyes on his boy. He dipped the cloth briefly in the water, trailing it up over Ted's collarbone and neck. Corn silk eyes fluttered open, peering at his master, and he couldn't stop the content whimper that escaped him.

"Does the water sting?" John asked, he could see the cut and burns through the surface. Ted shook his head slowly, eyes staying on his master. He was barely awake, he was starting to actually feel good. The doctor had given him a sedative and approved the bath.

John gently washed his pet's skin, admiring his beauty and wondering how he had ever gotten so lucky. He hated that Batista had tried to ruin him, but his kitten was strong. He wasn't nearly as broken as he was when he first found him, he had thickened his shell since then.

Ted had slipped into a doze when the door cracked open, Shawn stepping inside.

"John…"

John spared his higher-up a look, but his attention was fully on tenderly wiping the soapy cloth over one of his pet's burns. He didn't care about anything else but soothing him, taking care of him as best as he could. But Shawn didn't leave, silently reminding him that he had responsibilities.

"Just give me five minutes" John conceded.

Shawn left, shutting the door quietly.

**xXx**

A half hour later, while the doctor was cleaning and looking Ted's wounds over, the masters gathered around the polished wood table in the dining room. The subs had turned up the TV, watching some trashy reality show. The screaming from the characters drowned out anything they would've heard, for they had collectively decided that they didn't need to know what was going to happen.

Four more men would die this week, and it was best to be ignorant of it.

Undertaker looked around at all his men, most anxious for what was to come. He'd thought this out very carefully, and he had decided the best way to go about this so everyone would be satisfied. "I want everyone to go in pairs."

"Pairs?" Adam parroted.

"Does everyone remember what I said about no lone-wolf shit?" he got reluctant nods "I meant it. I want a second man there with you for back up, tactical, whatever you need to keep your ass covered. I want the second man to do whatever he's asked, make sure no member of this court goes down. If one does, we all may."

"Who's going with who?" John spoke up, drumming his fingers on the table anxiously.

"I know we all want this to be over with, but there are some things we need to do first" Mark stated seriously, the drumming stopped "John…you'll be going with Randy."

John gave his best friend a smirk, they bumped fists.

"Who's takin' the youngin'?" Matt drawled, tilted his head toward Miz. The faux-hawked young man glared at his friend, but didn't speak against him.

"Since he believes so much in him, Chris will be taking Michael" Mark replied, giving his youngest a softer look "I think you've earned it."

"Thanks, 'Taker."

Chris slung an arm around his friend's shoulders, grinning, "Perfect."

Mark turned his eyes to Adam, the blonde was leaning against the wall, "And for you…Shawn will be going with you."

Edge and HBK shared a look, then shrugged, "Sure."

Matt's eyes lit up suddenly, "So does that mean…?"

"Yes, Matthew" Mark tilted his head at the dark Hardy, the corners of his mouth twitching upward "You'll get the pleasure of my company."

Miz did the math in his head, "So…the boys will be by themselves?"

"I trust them alone, Michael."

"Listen, Miz, we're all uncomfortable with leaving them all alone together" Chris squeezed his shoulders harder, getting the younger man's eyes to pop a bit "But they'll be fine. I checked this place over myself, it's a fortress. Nothing's going to happen to them."

Shawn rolled his eyes, throwing his hands up in exasperation, "Now he's cursed it."

John hung his head, shaking it at the court's behavior.

"We need to leave now" Mark pulled out four index cards, passing them to the masters who needed info "I took what Shawn got from JBL and what Mercury could pull, and this is what we have. I've booked individual flights for all of you to the addresses in the corners."

They peered at the corners of the cards, nodding.

"These guys don't live close to each other" Jericho observed.

"They're trying to scatter" Mark replied smoothly "We won't let them."

Randy's eyes widened fractionally, "This is Hunter's…_home_ address."

John leaned in to him, voice low, "Are you still up to this, Randy?"

The Orton nodded slowly, "Connecticut…Stephanie and his two kids will be there."

Shawn moved to stand beside the younger man, a hard set to his jaw, "You're not going to hurt them."

"Give me some fuckin' credit, I just lost a kid" Randy hissed at the shorter man.

John put a arm across his back, the other hand settling on his shoulder in a comforting way, "We'll talk about it along the way, we'll figure it out."

Randy nodded slowly, re-working his plans in his head.

"Shouldn't we - I dunno - refuel?" Shawn asked, knowing he'd said the wrong thing.

"By the time we nap and eat a sandwich, these assholes will be gone" Jericho snapped "From this card? Styles' is already trying to get out of the country."

Shawn held up his hands, "Sorry, stupid question."

"We'll grab whatever we can as we go" Mark offered "You can sleep on the plane."

They agreed, their adrenaline and their rage wouldn't let them pause anyways.

Mark looked around at his court, his next words silent.

_Time for good-byes_.

"I shouldn't have to tell you that this is dangerous…or that you should be careful" Mark began, ending firmly "So I won't. I expect no less than perfection."

Smirks formed on the masters faces, they knew they wouldn't disappoint their leader.

Considering themselves dismissed, they started trickling out of the dining room in search of their subs. Shawn hung back with Mark, waiting until they were alone before speaking.

"I want us out the door in an hour" Mark informed his right hand, running a hand over the back of his neck "I'm going to see Phil."

Shawn nodded, watching his leader leave the room. He should've left immediately to seek John out, but he was tired. He needed some sleep. He was definitely going to convince Edge to stop and get food, and he was going to sleep in the backseat if it killed him.

Knowing his back, it would.

While Shawn was scrubbing the heels of his palms into his eyes, someone snuck in. The ravenette padded in on bare feet, hopping up onto the dining room table. When HBK dropped his hands, he was met by the most loveliest vision he could've hoped for. A smile came to his face, his heart couldn't help but beat twice as hard for the love of his life.

John smiled back at him, flashing perfect pearly teeth, "Hey."

"Hey there, sweetheart" Shawn said warmly, going over to his pet "How're you holdin' up here?"

"It's boring, it's normal" John rolled his eyes, but his smile was still there "…it's really nice."

"I'm glad" Shawn was surprised when his pet tugged at his shoulders, pulling him forward to stand in between his thighs. He found himself held in place right before his mouth was taken in a sudden kiss, a taste of desperation in the contact.

"What?" John breathed, pulling back just a bit when his master didn't respond "Don't you want to kiss me?"

Shawn scoffed lightly, "I always wanna kiss you-"

The next kiss was sharp, cutting off his words. He felt hands at his belt, and he had to end it.

"Don't" Shawn snapped, taking his love's hands and pining them to the table. John whined in protest, kneading at his master's neck. "Johnny, don't."

"Please don't turn me away" John pleaded, rubbing his cheek against his master's, his eyes clenched shut "He told me you'd never touch me again. Don't make him right, Master."

Shawn pulled back, cupping his pet's face as gently as he could. He looked into the teary doe eyes he adored, nothing but love on his face.

"He'll never be right, and he's gone for what he put you through" Shawn assured him, wiping away stray tears with his thumbs "Don't think for a second I don't want you anymore. But you need to heal."

John opened his mouth to protest, but his love's palm brushed his lips. He nodded obediently, cheeks flushing hotly in shame. He had tried to seduce his master like he used to seduce his old tricks, this was no place for something like that. Those days were over. Shawn loved him, most importantly - he loved him the way he was.

Shawn's arms slid around his waist in a hug, the body warmth more of a comfort than anything could be.

John embraced him back, burying his face in the crook of his neck and praying that everything went back to normal soon.

**xXxXx**

The moment Matt stepped into the living room, he knew his little brother wasn't there. He looked around to find his instincts were right, Jeff was no where to be seen.

Jay was standing by the railing, arms folded over it and chin resting on his elbow.

"Where is he?"Jay looked to the front door pointedly. Matt sighed, grabbing his leather jacket before heading out the front door. The crisp air almost stung his lungs, but he quickly grew accustomed to it. It was a beautiful night, the sky clear to reveal it's glistening star-treasures. The creak of chains filled the air, coming from the porch swing.

Matt turned, cocking his head to the side at the sight of his little brother sitting Indian-style on the swing. He had his hands shoved into his thick Hardy hoody, the bright violet-sapphire blended symbol bright against the dark material. He was staring out at their property, sitting forward a bit so his marked-up back didn't touch the swing.

"Jeff…what are you doin' out here?" Matt inquired softly, walking over to the swing. Jeff puckered his lips a bit, shrugging. The ravenette sat down beside him, giving a great sigh. The silence continued, so Matt started slowly swinging them. Just a bit, the familiar rhythm calming them both.

"I know you have to do this" Jeff finally whispered, not wanting to break the spell that had woven over the night "And I know you're going to do something drastic to him…so I just want…I want you to be careful, that's all."

"Of course I'll be careful" Matt replied light-heartedly, going to pat his brother's leg but freezing. There were whip-lashes all over him, even bandaged up…it would hurt to be touched. A shadow passed over his face, he withdrew his hand and let it lay on the swing.

"Promise?" Jeff let his eyes fall to his brother, beseechment in his eyes.

"I promise."

Jeff reached over, grasping his brother's silver Hardy pendant between his long fingers, "Swear on this."

Matt blanketed the younger man's hand with his own, giving him a warm smile, "I swear."

Jeff sealed the promise with a kiss.

Inside, Adam went up and leaned on the railing beside his own brother. Jay gave him a sideways glance, trying to smile but failing.

"I'm tired" Jay admitted.

"I'm not surprised."

Jay closed his eyes, nuzzling his nose into his own arm, "A week, huh? I guess I'll be running the house, seeing as I'm the oldest."

Adam stifled a laugh, gently poking his brother in the ribs. He got a snort in response, a shuffle, but no real protest was uttered.

"I'll be back soon" Adam lightened his touch, running the back of his hand over his lover's ribs instead.

Jay hummed in content, "I know. Just don't get your stupid ass killed, ok?"

Adam gave a snort of his own, "Where's the love and respect in that?"

Jay turned to face his brother, "_Please_ don't get your stupid ass killed, _Master_."

"That's my angel" Edge's signature smirk appeared, he leant in to steal a kiss.

He was received with Captain Charisma's signature grin, also seeking a kiss.

**xXx**

Randy looked to the bed for his boy when he came out, but all he found was Evan there napping. He continued his search, finding his sweet kitten in the kitchen nursing a water bottle. He looked nervous, and he had dark circles under his eyes. This drew concern from the older man, he came up to him.

Cody found his chin tilted up, uneasy viper eyes studying his face, "I'm fine."

"Can't you sleep, baby?" Randy inquired lowly, those once-bright cerulean eyes cloudy "You look so tired…have you been having nightmares?"

"I…I can't rest for more than ten minutes at a time" Cody confessed "It's just napping, I can't seem to really _sleep_."

"Take some of those pills Collins gave you, it'll help you get there" Randy's touch turned softer, his fingers drifting up to thread in his boy's dark hair "God, you look ragged."

"I'm sorry" Cody dropped his eyes to the floor, hating that his master found no pleasure in his appearance. Randy sensed this sudden depression easily, and he was quick to wrap his boy in his arms. Cody couldn't help but purr, rubbing his face against his master's should. He inhaled the rich scent while leaving his own, marking his master in his own way.

Randy knew his boy only did this when he was really upset, when he felt their relationship was being threatened, "You know I love you."

Cody smiled tearfully at the words, they weren't said often but when they were…they were meant.

"Yeah" the younger man nodded, sniffling softly as he fought back anymore tears.

"I'm only doing this because I love you, I love what we have" Randy admitted, petting along the dip of his pet's back "I'm not going to let him hurt us like this…not without paying a price."

Cody nodded again, eyes still downcast, "I should stay up anyways…be with Teddy while John's gone. Like you said, he'll need me."

Randy nodded, knowing his pet wouldn't open up if he kept pushing him. He bussed a sweet kiss across his forehead, then released him to leave.

"I'll see you later, Codes."

Cody watched his master start to walk away, raking his teeth along his bottom lip. He had to say something, he had to ask.

"Randy?"

Randy turned to look at his best, eyebrows shooting up into his hairline at the use of his name. Cody flushed darkly under the gaze, dropping his head briefly to gain his courage. He swallowed, clearing his throat as he tried to coax the words from his throat. He crossed his arms over his chest, not daring to look at his master.

"…am I still your beauty?"

Randy was surprised by this. He had always called Cody that when he was showing him off or bragging about him, declaring him above all others in his eyes. At every roster party, when there were people to smooze and drinks to be had, Randy would keep his arm around Cody's waist almost all the time and present him as his beauty (or "The Viper's Treasure" as Shane McMahon introduced him once.) It was true, Cody was his beauty, his pet, his love, his fucking everything.

"Of course you are" Randy assured him "Nothing will change that."

Randy Orton never bullshitted, he never said things just to say them. What he said, he meant. Cody had learned that much by being so close to him these past few years, being his pet meant doing damage control when Randy left a room (for his bluntness offended endless amounts of people.) It meant accepting him as he was, rough edges included.

A serious spark of life appeared in his cerulean depths, a true smile (however small) curling his lips.

Relief filled Randy's chest, "Be good while I'm gone."

Cody let his master go, knowing that his attention would be for Ted now.

Little did he know, upstairs, Ted was getting all his master's attention.

John sat on the bed, his pet fast asleep under the covers beside him. The doctor had bandaged him up, covering the cut on his chest and wrists. Butterfly bandages trailed up and down the whisker-like cuts on his cheeks, cream rubbed into the welts to help them heal. He was all patched up, and with the help of a few pills, he was out like a light.

John threaded his fingers through his love's hair, running the pads of his fingers oh-so-gently along the velvet of his cat ears. Endless minutes spent just caressing his pet, sometimes leaning in to drop kisses along his neck or any unmarred skin he could find. Once in a while, Ted would release little mewls of content, but was otherwise asleep.

"He's dead, kitten" John finally whispered "He'll never touch you again. He'll never ogle you the way he used to…I knew how much it bothered you, how much it unnerved you, but I never did anything. I've made up for it. I did it for you…and for me. My kitten."

John brushed a last kiss across his forehead, he had to help Randy get his revenge now.

"I trust you with Cody."

Down the hall, Undertaker stood by his pet's bed. He had his arms crossed over his chest, a solemn expression on his face. Punk was fast asleep on the bed, covered pulled half up over his bandaged back. He seemed troubled, even in sleep, plagued by what had happened.

Mark wasn't good with comforting. He could spoil his pet rotten, sure, but he couldn't be…tender. It wasn't in his nature. He could support, spoil, be careful, but he didn't like to be…

"Ugh" Mark sighed hoarsely, rolling his neck. He was confusing the hell out of himself, he couldn't get his thoughts straight. He would take Phil home after this, help him heal, and he would do the best he could to fix all that had been broken.

So there was no reason to say good-bye, he simply left his pet there to sleep.

**xXx**

Chris took some time to watch his pet sleep, a smile on his lips. The small ravenette was half curled up on the futon, hands folded up by his head. He couldn't have looked more angelic if he'd started sucking on his thumb. He loved that unspoiled innocence of his Evan, the way he could be angelic without even trying. It was an unconscious effort, one that he'd always had. A childish nature, a sweet smile, a fun side.

It was everything Chris used to have, back before this industry damn near destroyed his fun-loving personality.

Luckily, he had Evan.

Chris walked over to the futon, dropping down on his knees beside his love. He stroked a hand down his side, getting the younger man to sigh and unfurl beneath his touch.

"Ev?"

Those lovely doe eyes fluttered open, speckled with gold, just gleaming in the light.

"Mmm, Master?" Evan turned on his back, smiling dreamily at the blonde above him. Chris started to smile, but faltered when he saw his baby's cheeks and neck were still flushed. His nerves kicked in again, afraid that maybe the disease had reared back up. He checked his temperature with the back of his hand, then dropped a kiss on his warm cheek.

"I have to go."

"I know" Evan hummed, enjoying the touches.

"Drink a lot of water, eat something warm, and try to keep warm" Chris rattled off, a bit nervous about leaving his boy alone after something so horrible had happened to him "I promise to be back, but-"

Evan silenced him with a small kiss, getting his master to shut up, "I understand, Master."

"My Evvy" Chris murmured, taking one more sweet kiss from his small mouth before letting him go "Go back to sleep."

Evan nodded, "…bye."

Jericho got up from the bed, finding Miz standing there expectantly. He had changed into a clean outfit, one that he had left here on a different visit. Stylish jeans, a dark green shirt with Chinese lettering down the waistline, and finally a black fedora with an equally dark jade bandana beneath it. He waved him forward, showing his fingerless leather gloves.

"Come on, Chris."

He looked utterly and completely like The Miz should.

Jake tore his attention away from the movie long enough to wave his master off, "Bye again."

"You too, babe."

Jake scrunched up his nose, he hated being called 'babe.' Somehow 'baby' was fine, but 'babe'?

But it was his master, and he'd take what he could get.

They'd all take what they could get.


	28. Chapter 28

**I'm going to warn you know, I'm just winging the flow here. If it seems really fucked up, I'm sorry. There's **_**way**_** too much to do with this plotline. Ted and Punk must've been gone for almost two weeks there, if my count is correct.**

**Remember Phil and Jeff's rivalry at the start of the story? Let's resolve that, shall we?**

* * *

As soon as Jeff was sure the masters had left, he snuck up the stairs to Phil's room. He knew he should let his in-ring rival sleep, but he knew the guilt in his heart wouldn't ease until he at least talked to him. He stood outside the door for several minutes, contemplating what he was going to say to him.

"_What? Huh, what?! Do something, C-U-M! I dare you!"_

//That was one of the last things I said to him// Jeff brushed his fingers across the knob, heart beating roughly against the inside of his chest. For a moment, he was sure his feet were going to bail him out of there, but his heart told him that this was right. He pushed the door open, letting himself inside.

"Phil?" Jeff called softly, hoping he hadn't woken the punk up.

The younger man was lain out on the bed, face half-buried in his arms. The bandage along his back was visible, hiding the severe burns underneath. Olive eyes were fluttering open at the sound of his name, looking for the source. Jeff offered a small smile, closing the door behind him. He made his way over to the bed, shuffling his bare feet against the carpet in hope that Phil would take the extra seconds and kick him out. He probably wasn't even welcome…

Phil's pierced lips turned up in a smile, "Hey Jeff."

"Hey, man" Jeff drawled, dropping to his knees beside the bed. He rested his hand on the bed, his chin on his hand, simply watching as the other shook off his meds. "I didn't mean 'ta wake you up. I'll leave?""No, it's fine" Phil cleared his throat, propping his head up a little to look at the other properly. Jeff couldn't help himself, his tattooed fingers coming up to brush back loose strands of the man's raven hair. There was a rather dark bruise along his cheekbone, showing that he'd been smacked around.

"Fuck, man" Jeff sighed, regret like lead in his heart "I didn't mean what I said, all that shit I put you through-"

"Shut up, Hardy" Phil scoffed, shutting the man up "Don't feed me bullshit, okay? I'm fine, you're fine…we're all going to heal. Don't pull this 'death bed' shit with me."

Jeff shook his head, starting to deny it, "I'm not-"

"We never got along before" Phil stated, cutting off the other easily "Why is now any different?"

Jeff didn't know what to say, he dropped his eyes in shame. He was surprised when a warm hand blanketed his own, enough ink between them to open an art gallery. He looked to him, finding a rather stony expression on Phil's face. The punk's thumb brushed over the bandages on his wrist, matching the one's he and some of the other subs had.

"Are you okay, Jeff?" Phil asked softly, looking the blonde over for wounds as Jeff had done to him "Kane told me something about you being whipped…is it true?"

Instead of responding, Jeff pushed off the bed and got to his feet. He shed his hoody with little difficulty, though his shirt was a little more difficult. He carefully peeled it away, face scrunching up and a hiss escaping his lips as he put a strain on his wounds. He turned, showing off the bandage along his back and the lesser welts spidering from beneath it. He heard Phil suck in a sharp breath, obviously shocked to have what that monster had told him be true.

"There's some on my thighs too" Jeff added "They're…they're not so bad."

"How can you walk?" Phil implored, taking the Hardy's hand again and pulling him to the bed "Lay down."

"I shouldn't" Jeff began, easing himself back onto the bed at the man's request.

"You're hurt."

"So are you" Jeff countered easily "You said it, it's not like we're friends or anything."

"Would you quit being so fucking difficult?!" Phil barked, ready to tear the other's colored hair out of his scalp "I wouldn't have asked you if I didn't fucking want you here!"

"Why?" Jeff shot back defensively "Why the hell are we pretending to be nice? We've never liked each other."

"Is it such a big fucking deal that I want to make sure you're okay?" Phil lashed out, grabbing the Hardy by his necklace to pull him closer "Maybe I was worried about your stupid ass, did you think of that?! Maybe I set there in that God-forsaken cellar thinking about what an ass I've been to you! How I've been hard on you! How I've got _no_ fucking right to judge you! Fuck me for thinking that the good in all this shit is that _maybe_ it would help us get through all that petty in-ring shit and be friends!"

Jeff was stunned by this admission, emerald eyes wide as the punk caught his breath. Phil's cheeks were flushed, and though he didn't look it was he was shocked that all of that had come out like it did. He had a lot of time to think about his life down in that hell-pit, about his friends, about Jeff. He was just so tired of all this in-court fighting, of always butting heads with the younger Hardy. It was bullshit, and he regretted every time he had picked a fight. The violent rivalry was mostly his fault, and he hated that he had pushed Jeff to jumping off ladders and whatever else he could think of to prove he was better.

Jeff raked his teeth over his lower lip, rasping out, "Fuck us for wasting all this time."

Phil's flare of anger faded away, "Seriously?"

Jeff nodded, both relieved as they felt their rivalry physically melt off their shoulders. The blonde scooted closer, clasping their hands more firmly.

"So…we've all talked about what happened to us" Jeff admitted, laying down on his stomach beside the ravenette "We were all together at the hospital for a while, so we had time to let it all out. If, I dunno…"

Jeff turned his head, an understanding look on his face, "I know it's still fresh, I know you probably don't wanna, but…if you wanna talk about it, I'm here."

Tears began to spill down Phil's smooth cheeks, fingers trembling beneath the Hardy's hand. Jeff panicked, getting closer and putting his free hand on his friend's shoulder.

"Punk, man, what's wrong?" Jeff inquired in a whisper, hoping he hadn't upset the man.

"I could've died down there…it could've been all over right there" Punk murmured, olive eyes going dull as he flipped through those gruesome memories "He could've done anything he wanted. He could've…chopped me up or…" he winced suddenly "I was chained tight, he could've brought anyone down there and I wouldn't have been able to fight them off. Phil was trembling now, goosebumps blooming up and down his arms.

"Mark would've found me dead…" the pure horror in his voice broke the Hardy's heart.

Phil buried his face in the pillow, tears continuing to spill down his cheeks as he silently let out his grief. The whole of the situation hit him all at once, shocking his nerves to the core. He felt Jeff's paint-smoothed fingers stroked his arms, his hands, his hair, all in an effort to soothe him.

Jeff stayed with the younger man, letting him pour out all his sorrow at once so he could get passed it.

They all had to.

**xXxXxXx**

_Next Morning In Pittsburgh, Pennsylvania_

Kurt Angle awoke like he did every morning, hungry. So, matching his routine, he rolled out of bed and pulled on some clothes. With a yawn, he padded barefoot out of his bedroom with a mind to get to the kitchen. He needed to get something in his belly. He'd barely gotten any sleep last night, he'd flipped to the news at dinner only to find a story on the smoldering remains of JBL's limo.

And JBL.

At first, he'd called Scott to see what the hell was up. Raven told him quite frankly to quit being a pussy and hung up, but that did nothing but heighten his nerves. So he'd called AJ next, hoping his other TNA employee would shed some light on what was going on. AJ told him to get out of the country, apparently he was getting on a plane in a few hours to get the hell out of Dodge. Or America, as the case would be.

Angle planned on following that plan as well.

Kurt shuffled into the kitchen, knowing there was a protein shake waiting for him inside the fridge. He hadn't gotten a few feet from the stainless steel appliance when he heard a slurp. It startled him so badly he had to turn and glare at the thing that made the sound, finding it to be a man.

Adam fucking Copeland was stretched out on his couch. In his living room. In his house.

The blonde bomb-shell wiggled his fingers at him in greeting, a water bottle to his lips.

"What the fuck are you doing here?!" Kurt barked, voice still raspy from sleep.

"Nothing" Adam shrugged, crossing his legs across the cushions. The mud from his boots rubbed off on the couch, he couldn't seem to care less about it though.

"How did…?" Kurt's eyes darted around the room, there wasn't a trace of anyone else in his home. A smirk started to form on his face, some of his arrogance returning to him.

"You're all alone, aren't you?" Kurt couldn't stop the low, mocking chuckle from escaping him "You've always been an idiot, Adam. Without the rest of Undertaker's Court, you're just a man. You'd like to keep everyone thinking that you're some god, that you have special powers…but you live and bleed like everyone else."

Edge tilted his head, not once breaking the connection of their eyes, "That's what you think."

"You don't scare me, Copeland, you never have" Kurt outright lied, swinging open the fridge door.

"You took something that was not rightfully yours" Edge spat, sitting up rather gracefully and leaning against the arm of the couch "You thought you could just get away with it? Did any of you _really_ think we'd be so stupid and meek just to let you walk away?"

"You're not going to kill me" Kurt stated rather smugly "You don't have the balls."

Edge quirked a brow, "Don't I?"

Kurt hesitated to reply, instead snagging his protein shake-filled thermos.

The blonde sighed dramatically, tossing aside the water bottle before folding his hands on his stomach, "You're right! As always, asshole. I'm not going to kill you."

"Damn right" Kurt grumbled, screwing off the top of the thermos before putting it to his lips.

Edge watched intently, a grin curling up his lips. Angle didn't get a chance to open his eyes before the first strike hit his cheek, screaming insanely as the second one got his forehead. The blowhard stumbled backward, still holding the thermos as he smacked into the kitchen counter. One last strike caught him in the jaw before he tossed the cup aside, giving an animalistic cry of rage.

A grey-scaled snake hissed and spit from within the thermos, coiling tightly inside once the cup hit the floor. It snapped it's inky mouth once before settling.

Adam couldn't stop the hysterical laugh that escaped him, nor the next one. He caught into a horrible fit of boisterous laughter, gripping his sides as the Olympian writhed around on the floor in pain. The venom was quick to burn his veins, bursting vessels and constricting others. Kurt trembled violently, muscles starting to constrict from the almost 500 mg of venom searing through his veins.

"Fuck! I can't believe you fell for that!" Adam roared, completely lost in his amusement "Haven't you ever seen _Kill_ _Bill_ you fucking dumbass?! Oh fuck…"

Adam gasped for breath, wiping the moisture from his eyes, "I can't believe you actually opened it. Shawn bet ten bucks that you weren't that stupid, but I was rooting for you, Angle. God, you never fail to disappoint."

Angle was screaming loads of things, but none of them made any sense as his body started swelling a good bit.

"Dude, I'd tell you all about the black mamba, but I'd like to think that you've seen the movie" Edge got to his feet, grinning like anything "And to be fair - _I'm_ not kill you, the venom is."

The blonde snagged a towel off the table, walking over to the man who'd attacked his younger brother. He tossed the cloth over thermos that held the snake, hoping the little guy got away before police came. He'd like to think that the snake understood, he'd talk to him all the way here (even with Shawn giving him funny looks.) The pheromones had really done the trick, for usually this type of snake wasn't so aggressive.

And he'd admit it, he stole his idea from _Kill_ _Bill_. But it was a good concept!

Also, it was something Jay had said to him

"_You're going to kill someone because I was stupid enough to get caught off guard."_

Deep down, he knew Jay didn't want him to kill anyone. His brother had always been a better person than him, that's why he never told him when he had to deal with an asshole who was trying to ruin what they had.

Angle was clawing at his own throat with fat fingers, shaking his head violently as the toxin started to settle deeply into his chest.

"And you thought I didn't have the balls" Edge faux-cooed, tisking "I'm an opportunist, Angle…it's kind of what I _do_. Leave it to you to forget that."

Edge turned his back on the gasping man, he had no more business here. But just as he was about to pass the boundary of the kitchen, he couldn't help but stop and utter one last thing.

"I bet you enjoyed my brother, he's the sweetest fuck you'll ever have and I hope you _crave_ another taste in your final thoughts" Edge murmured solemnly, slipping on his shades "And these breaths will be even sweeter…because they're your last on this earth."

**xXxXxXx**

_Back in Cameron…_

Ted snuffled softly, still half-asleep as a hand drifted over his arm. The firm caress was welcome, warm, and he couldn't help but savor it. He had no idea who it was, but he couldn't care. It felt safe to him, and with the knowledge that Dave was dead.

Gold spun lashes fluttered open, revealing their blurry cerulean treasures. He was buried under a thick comforter, he shifted a bit to get some comfort. He winced, a tightness on his skin revealing the fact that he was bandaged. There was a coldness against his skin, his lover's dog tags. He blinked a few times, clearing his vision, finding another set of cerulean eyes peering back at him.

"Cody?" he breathed, finding none other than his best friend laying there on the bed next to him.

The younger man had a pillow tucked beneath his head, a dreamy look on his face. Sweat pants swallowed his legs, a hoody covering his torso. He looked so tired, but rather content to just lay there with him. Ted tugged down the blanket a bit, the cooled air skimming his bare flesh. He reached out, cupping his best friend's cheek rather tenderly.

"There's my Coddies" Ted murmured, eyelids drooping a bit.

"Damn, it's good to see you, Teddy" the brunette replied, shadowing the hand on his face "Do you feel any better?"

"Much better than I was" the honest reply nearly broke the other's heart "I thought…there for a while…that I wouldn't see you guys again. Batista had me really freaked out."

"You're home now" Cody reassured him, chasing the glimmer of hopelessness out of his friend's eyes with a kiss to his palm "Soon, John will be back…and then we'll all just sleep this off…we can just forget it all."

Ted sighed heavily, "I'll never forget."

Cody's smile was almost woeful, "I'm afraid I won't either."

The blonde took a moment to gather his thoughts, eyes fluttering open completely to take in all of his friend. He sat up a bit, brow creased.

"What happened to you, Codes?"

Cody bit his lower lip, rolling onto his back. He carefully raised his hoody up, revealing the bandaged flesh of his stomach. He couldn't see the staples that held him back together, nor the mars that looked akin to a C-section. Cody took the other's hand, ears pinned back on his head as he laid his hand atop the bandages. They'd always had a bond, between their cat genetics and their rapidly growing friendship, they were inseparable. So that strong bond pulsed as they touched…telling Ted that the younger man had been hurt beyond words.

"I was pregnant" Cody rasped, a small smile still on his face "I-I had Randy's baby inside me…"

"Who?" was all Ted could choke out, stretching out beside his best friend and rubbing his cheek along his shoulder.

"Hunter."

A thousand insults ran through Ted's mind, and he had an excuse to use every single one of them. But the longer he laid there, taking in Cody's sadness and blending it with his own, he knew this wasn't the time for any more anger. This was a time for healing, love, friendship.

"I love you so much, Cody" Ted dropped a kiss on his cloth-covered shoulder.

"It would've been so beautiful" Cody couldn't help but whisper.

"Yeah, it would've" Ted replied with a smile "Can you try again?"

"Yeah."

"You guys will make amazing parents" Ted pulled the hoody down his friend's stomach, still letting his hand rest lightly atop it "Are you gonna stay with me?"

"Hell yeah" Cody chuckled lightly, nosing at the older man's blonde hair "I missed my best friend too much to leave you up here by yourself."

Ted nodded gratefully, both slowly curling around each other. They took in the familiar scent, the feel of the other, knowing that even their masters could never know them so well. They loved their masters, but their special mutation linked them to each other like no one else. Not quite like Jeff and Jay, but close enough.

Wrapped up in each other, they fell asleep.


	29. Chapter 29

**Sorry if this kind of fast, but these men want revenge and they aren't about to give the Anti-Court a chance to fight back and mess up their plans.**

* * *

Anyone who saw AJ Styles that morning would say that he had a certain spring in his step. He lugged his single carry-on over his shoulder, shades in place over his eyes, and a whistle on his lips. He strolled through the airport terminal like it was nothing, like he _had_ nothing to hide. Some looked his way, but not many.

The advantages of being on _TNA_, he supposed.

AJ didn't have to wait long in line; things seemed to be going pretty smoothly today. There was no fussing, no screaming kids, and no hold-ups. It seemed that everything was going his way lately, these past few weeks nothing but fun and games.

AJ could still taste Evan's lips, could still smell the scent of his naked fear, those delicious screams echoed in his ears. The sight of him on his back, thighs forced apart…or on his belly, taking all the punishment that he himself had to dish out…

It made his hunger stir, but he knew he could never have it again. As much as the Anti-Court would like to fool themselves into thinking that they could take the subs for their own, it could never happen. AJ may have been crazy, but he wasn't a fool. He knew when his goals were out of reach. He knew when he had been beaten at his own game. Well, not so much beaten as…_matched_. Chris could have his broken angel back, he could keep that little darkling in his bed every night.

It would annoy AJ that Evan would be sucking that jackass's dick every night, but what could he do?

What he could do was what had already been done.

AJ could only pray that the fear he'd instilled into the young thing, the shame and the guilt, were enough to keep him on the sexual sidelines for months to come.

//Who am I kidding?// the brunette gave a bitter snort of a laugh, dropping his bag onto the x-ray conveyer belt //That little whore was probably back on his knees the moment he stopped sneezing. That…or he's dead.//

One could only hope.

The burly security guard manning the station gave him a long once-over. AJ flashed him a smirk, noting that the guy was pretty decent looking. He had time for a quickie before his flight arrived, and if this guy was offering - he'd take it. AJ was a creature of impulse and lust, he wasn't going to deny his stirring cock it's pleasure just because he was on the run.

Okay, maybe that _was_ a pretty good reason.

The security guard tapped the female bag attendant's shoulder, whispering something in his ear. The attendant seemed confused, brow creasing, but the young woman nodded. She typed in a code to the computer, and it gave a sharp beep.

"Sir, it seems you've been selected for a random full-body search" the security officer informed him, full lips curled up a bit in a faint smile.

"Have I?" AJ purred, leaning against the desk and wetting his lips.

The guard came around the desk, taking the wrestler gently by the elbow.

"This way, Mr. Styles."

AJ found himself turned on by the gesture as he was led across the terminal to one of the back rooms. He didn't think for a moment what else this could be other than a nooner. He was already hard, anticipating the fucking he was about to get. This guy had some serious muscle! The man stopped in front of the door, AJ turned to look up at him through his lashes.

"You first, Mr. Styles."

"Aren't you going to join me?" AJ leant against the door, smirking confidently "I don't wanna be all alone in there. I might get up to some…_trouble_."

The guard smirked back, knowing exactly what the younger man was talking about, "How about you get started without me? I've got to turn off the cameras. I can't let them catch our…_trouble_, can I?"

With his ego thoroughly stroked and the door opened for him, AJ backed up into the room. He kept his eyes on the officer the entire time, not once turning around until the door was shut between them.

"Score" AJ chuckled to himself, giving a quick victory pump before turning to find a good place to fuck. It looked like an interrogation room out of _Law & Order_, one wide metal desk in the middle and nothing else. But this room had something the show didn't. This room…had Chris Jericho leaning against said desk.

The blonde was smirking at him, waving a hello.

The grin dropped from AJ's face, realization blooming like acid in his gut. He whipped around, grabbing for the doorknob and twisting. It wouldn't budge, no matter how hard he jerked at it. He contemplated calling for help, and had no sooner opened his mouth when Jericho decided to speak up.

"It's sound-proofed" Chris stated, showing he had no hope of escaping "I chose your grave just as intimately as I chose your bait."

"The guard…"

"Handsome, isn't he?" Chris tilted his head "He seemed like your type. Handsome enough to be obtainable, subtle enough to be interesting."

The blonde couldn't stop himself from laughing at the wrestler's sudden stiff posture, "What's wrong, Styles? Did you think you were getting laid? I'm _so_ sorry."

AJ took a deep breath, trying to calm his suddenly racing heart, "I guess you're here about Evan?"

"Yeah" Chris scoffed "I'm here because you fucked your friend. I'm here because you broke the trust and body of my Evan. I'm here…because _you_ thought you were going to get away with it."

Chris stood up straighter, his gaze hardening, "I'm here to prove you were wrong."

"Mmmm, did you like how I trussed him up for you?" AJ tilted back his head, eyes closed, a smile curling his lips "Was he as pretty the next morning as when I left him? Oh, Irvine, he was so sweet beneath me…"

Chris armed himself with his weapon, slipped behind his back as he inched closer, "Did you enjoy him?"

"Very much so" AJ licked his lips hungrily, memories dancing behind his eyelids "He was tight and hot, I'll give you that. You're lucky to have an eager whore like that spreading his legs for you every night."

AJ pushed away from the door, not yet turning around, "If I had just met him a year earlier, he'd be all mine…"

A solid hand fell on his shoulder, "Keep dreaming."

AJ cried out as his knee gave under a swift kick, thrown off center and dragged across the room. He struggled out of the tight grip, throwing punches that connected with hard muscle. He forgot how famed Jericho was for being able to take a solid hit, in the ring and out. Great, he chose a master who was a brawler.

"Let me go, you son 'bitch!" AJ growled, clawing at the blonde's fingers to no avail.

Chris kept his grip firm spinning the smaller man around and slamming him against the desk. AJ cried out at the pain that shot across his abdomen from the edge. A sharp jab got him in the swell of his buttocks, he hissed and arched away from it.

"What the fuck?"

"Enjoy this, boy" Chris hissed into his ear, leaning hard into him to pin him down "This is what you wanted for Evan, and this is what you deserve."

Fire shot through AJ, searing his muscles up from his legs. He let out a strangled cry, hunching his shoulders and dropping to the desk on his elbows.

Chris removed the empty syringe with a scowl, "Take it like a man, Styles."

All thoughts of AJ's pride was gone. He clenched his eyes shut, shuddering against the icy surface of the table. He started to pant, unable to draw in as much air as he needed. His lungs were cramping in his chest, pressing hard against his ribs. His fingers scrambled for purchase against the smooth desk, each inhale felt like it was shredding his throat. AJ tried desperately to keep his eyes open, but they were watering up.

//No, no// AJ flipped around, clutching at his heart as it picked up a racer's pace in his chest. He tried to take the pressure off his chest, his focus was quickly put to his assailant's hand around his throat. He was slammed onto the table, the thud of his body smacking on the surface echoed in his ears. He gaped up at Chris, the blonde hovering over him to get a good look at his face.

Chris was saying something, taunting him, but it was lost in the thumping of his blood pounding in his ears. AJ's vision doubled on him, growing fuzzy at the edges. The lights above him swirled, growing fainter and dimmer with each swell of his heart. He couldn't speak, couldn't hear anything else but his veins threatening to burst with the force of his life-giving organ.

//No, please, no…// was all his desperate mind could stream //It was a game! It was all a game…pawns, people, chess, a game…//

Looking up at the ceiling, AJ knew he hadn't taken Chris's king, but he had sure as hell made a good suicide move. Maybe he hadn't completely lost, for he would always be remembered. And wasn't that what all wrestlers aimed to do in the end?

AJ smirked suddenly, lips wrapping around his last words.

"…I got your Queen…"

Chris watched the younger man go through his last seconds of life, fingers twitching erratically and chest heave in an arch. Then he went limp, the last of him leaving his shell. In reality, it only took a few minutes for the serum to work, but it seemed like so much longer. Jericho could think of no better revenge for his sub, giving AJ a taste of the medicine he had tried to deal upon Evan. He wasn't about to let this little hick get away with it, and a part of him was sated. The wild part, the dominant part, was content.

Chris rapped his knuckles across the metal of the door, it cracked open to reveal the officer he had conspired with.

"It seems Mr. Styles has suffered from a major heart attack" Chris slipped the empty syringe into the man's hand, who immediately stuffed it into a small black bag "If they feel like looking it up, he has heart problems in his family. Too bad…he was all alone in here when it happened."

The officer managed, "It's also a tragedy that the morning shift didn't put in a fresh tape for the security feed, Mr. Styles death was missed during the changing of the guard."

"Tragic" Chris spat the word like a poison, slipping on his sunglasses and striding out.

"My regards to Master 'Taker" the guard stated as he passed.

The blonde smirked softly to himself, looking to all the world like a jackal, "I'll send them along."

A young man in a fedora looked up when Chris passed him, shaded eyes tracking his movements. A slight nod was exchanged between them, the younger man threw his magazine in the trash and fell in step beside the blonde.

Together, they left the terminal.

**xXxXxXx**

Jake cracked an eye open, turning his head a little to watch his phone vibrate across the coffee table. He had his thick form stretched out on the couch, hands folded on his belly. He had been trying to sleep, but someone had turned _Survivor_ on and it kept him up. He found himself following it by sound alone, and Morrison was really into it.

John was cradling a thick pillow to his chest from his chair, eyes on the TV.

Jeff and Jay were talking quietly in the kitchen, discussing Punk and his emotional state. He had fallen asleep a few hours ago, the Hardy had stayed upstairs with them for quite some time.

The kitten were upstairs together, Cody watching over the sleeping blonde. From Jay's report, the young sub couldn't find any real rest for himself.

Evan had taken some medicine the doctor had given him, some antibiotics to help chase away the last of the fever. Whether or not he was getting any rest, he couldn't tell. He was breathing easy from the look of it, but he could just be thinking.

That boy was wiser than all of them sometimes, all of his twenty-six years weighing heavily on his shoulders.

Jake lazily reached out, cupping his cell in his palm and bringing it up to his face. He winced at the bright light, for the living room had been dimmed down. He clicked open the message, his eyes scanning over the words with a light heart.

_Jake-_

_The trash didn't leave the country, our gold-medal fiend didn't get more than a glimpse of sunlight. We're close, baby._

_- love, Miz_

Jake carefully rolled himself off the couch, creeping past it towards the kitchen. He shielded his eyes, nearly stumbling as he came up to the table. The two best friends looked up from their coffee, brows creased. It was too early for anyone to be up, except Morrison (but he was suffering from a bout of insomnia and had kept the TV on most of the night.)

"Jake, darlin', what's up?" Jeff drawled, looking the large blonde over.

Jake held out his phone, showing them the message.

Both the blonde and the southern boy tensed as a dark chuckle escape their third, both looking over to the Canadian like he'd grown another head.

Jay tipped his head down, grinning like a cat.

"Okay, maybe I lied" Jay slowly raised his eyes, peering at his best friend through the golden curtain of his lashes "Maybe I enjoy the idea of Adam killing for me…maybe more than I should."

Jeff's own lips curled, "I knew ya did, Jay."

Jake shivered at the cold wickedness that passed between the older man, wondering if he'd ever be like them.

* * *

**Sorry it took so long to post, I thought I had actually put this chapter up already. **


	30. Chapter 30

The Levesque mansion was quiet this night, because for once the head of the household was there. The two young girls of the home were tucked snuggly into their beds, fast asleep with sweet dreams flitting through their heads. Crickets chirped outside, that coupled with the wind had lulled them to sleep. They were unaware of the sudden silence that swept through the room, a sleek shadow passed by their window. It cut the moonlight for a few moments, silencing the animals it disturbed.

In the dark of the hallway, the same shadow shimmered across the wall. In a snake like coil, the blotch disappeared. Over the edge of the windowsill, behind the glass, appeared a pair of polished azure eyes. They roamed over the inside, finding nothing to stop him, before a firm jaw and a thick body were revealed. Gloved hands curled along the edge of the window, easily snapping the latch that had held it in place. With a grace rare for his size, he dipped his long body beneath the sill and let his bare feet drop onto the carpet. One swift movement, that's all it took to break in.

Those poison blue eyes covered every inch of the hall once more, finding his prey tucked away.

Down the hall in his den, Hunter reviewed the contract for his next match. He was standing with his back to the door, half-sitting on his desk. He took in the info, a smirk curling his lips. It seemed that the writers had decided it was worth exploring this new angle with Orton, they had planned a three month feud to test the waters. It involved the Rhodes boy as well, and that only increased his wicked joy.

Hunter didn't hear the predator that snuck into the room, nor did he expect the knife that appeared across his throat. A strong arm clamped across his chest, holding him in place, a powerful body pressing up behind him. The blonde man dropped the contract, eyes widening almost comically.

"Did you think I wouldn't find you?" came the cold voice in his ear.

"Orton" Hunter spat, wincing when his skin gave way beneath the edge of the blade and leaked "Watch it."

"Give me one good reason why" Randy demanded, fingers clenching around the hilt of the dagger.

Hunter scrambled to think of something, "My wife…my kids…"

"You want mercy, now?" Randy pressed his lips to the man's ear, rage flowing hot in his veins "Where was this clemency when you were murdering _my_ child?"

"My girls are young-" Hunter jerked when the blade cut a little deeper, he arched so as not to be gouged open.

"Mine didn't have a chance!" Randy hissed loudly, restraining himself at the last moment so as not to spill all of the man's blood at once "Don't you dare try and use them like a shield."

The older man felt fear trickling through his body, numbing him, "What do you want?"

"Why?" he couldn't stop the words from coming out.

Hunter was unable to swallow back his own response either, "The rest got to fuck their bitch, you robbed me of my turn. I got pissed…but I didn't fuck him."

Randy's face twisted up with rage, "What you did was worse, you sick fuck!"

"You want money?" Hunter was starting to panic as he felt the Viper shift around behind him "The title? I can get you GM, real easy."

"I don't want your bullshit."

What he wanted, he could never have back. The image of Cody broken and bleeding in the ring ould remain burned into his mind for the rest of his life. Just that motion of his boy pulling up his shirt, revealing the splotching flesh of his abs, was enough to make his stomach churn. When he found out about the baby, the sorrow seemed to overwhelm his beautiful boy. He'd never seen that kind of grief before, the purest kind, and it emanated from his sweet Cody. Orton had been scared that his boy had been broken forever, but he seemed to be on his road to recovery.

But things would never be the same again.

"I want Cody's innocence back" Randy angled the blade, reaching into his back pocket and pulling out something else "I want my son back."

Hunter didn't hear the click of the safety, the blood rushing in his ears was much too loud.

"Can you do that, Hunter?" Randy's tone was graver, a sad tone that tugged at the larger man's heart "Can you give them back to me?"

Hunter swallowed, eyes fluttering shut, "…no…"

"Didn't think so."

Hunter had no time to react before cool metal touched his lips, opening his eyes just in time to get one last glimpse of Randy moving in front of him. Before the pain came, before it all went dark, he processed one last thought as his eyes trained to what the man held to his mouth.

//So that's what it's like to be at the end of a gun barrel…//

Randy squeezed the trigger, flinching as the power shot up his wrist. It was much easier than he thought it'd be, no remorse…just a twitch of his finger. The strident echo assaulted his ears, bouncing off the walls, roaring through the house. Warmth splattered his forehead, his cheek, across his neck…he flinched at the contact, but didn't look away.

Hunter's head snapped back, skull crackling under the force of the shot. Teeth, lips, cheeks, his very face unstitched and scattered in all directions. Essence spilled out onto the floor, bits and pieces of all that Hunter had ever been now staining the carpet. His massive body gave a violent wrench, collapsing upon the desk in a graceless heap.

Randy stepped back, dropping his arms to his side. The gun slid from his leather-clad grip, thumping mutedly upon the rug. He craned his neck, a serpent-like hiss escaping his pursed lips. The thrill faded into a sweet content, calm settling into his veins where white-hot anger had once raced. Azure orbs watched in cool indifference as the muscled corpse slid over the edge of the desk and slumped against the side. Where his strong-jawed face had been was now a gleaming, gaping mess of blood and flesh. The flesh across his cheeks had torn away, revealing the back of his trachea and the remaining stubs of his back teeth.

Rivulets of crimson flowed and soaked into the carpet…

Someone was coming, he could sense it. He'd seen the children earlier, they were on the other side of the house. Why they weren't on the top floor, he'd never know. Maybe Stephanie would think twice about where she put her children's room now.

_Stephanie._

He couldn't let her see this.

Randy rushed across the room, refusing to look at the bloody mass again. He made sure not to touch the doorway, slithering into the hall and listening for his target. Her footsteps were light and insistent, easy to find. He stalked to the end of the hall, lashing out and catching her arm. The pretty brunette opened her mouth to scream, but he clamped his free hand upon her mouth. He swung her around, pinning her as gently as he could against the wall. She looked so terrified beneath his grip, so innocent, that his heartstrings couldn't help but be tugged.

Randy would handle this with kid gloves.

"Do you know what I've just done?"

Stephanie nodded, eyes darting to the study. She couldn't see inside, but she could put it all together. The echoing gunshot, the ache in her heart…she knew Hunter was dead.

"Stephanie, you have a choice here" Randy stated calmly "Hunter killed my child -my _son_- and he wasn't about to get away with it. You have two children upstairs who need their mommy."

Randy lent in, venom blue eyes burning into her, "This is where the choice comes in. Think of their lives, your life…think of who you're messing with and just how much you've let Hunter slide."

A thoughtfulness came into her eyes, she _was_ thinking of everything Hunter had done to her. The mental and sometimes physical abuse, the busted lips she'd had to explain away to her family. The way he used her to stay in the business and keep his reign.

Randy preyed on that, "This is when you decide between what you _should_ do…and what's best for your family."

Stephanie nodded, her decision forming.

"Hunter just killed himself in his study" Randy slowly removed his hand from her mouth "…what are you going to do?"

Stephanie was positively shaking against the wall, but she was a smart woman. With her husband gone, her children were her main concern.

"T-Take my girls out of here to the neighbors. Cry, shout…my husband just killed himself, it's natural" Stephanie explained, trying to keep her voice steady "They'll call the police…a grieving widow shouldn't handle such matters. C-Call my father…tell him the horrible news. I'll stay with him while I'm mourning."

Randy hadn't given her or Hunter enough credit. He should've known she'd be more than ready to get rid of the baggage that was her husband.

"Good girl" Randy rumbled, stepping away "The children need a father figure.'

Stephanie nodded again, "Who could be better than my brother?"

Randy approved of this. The minuscule amount of guilt he felt faded. Stephanie didn't seem very upset, there were no tears in her eyes at all. Hell, she looked pretty composed. Her eyes kept glancing at the small droplets on his face and she was pale, but she seemed overall okay.

Deciding not to overstay his welcome, Randy put his back to her and left the same way he came in. The moment his feet touched the grass, with that first lungful of night air, Randy knew he got away with it. He strode across the grass, sticking to the shadows even as he hit the sidewalk. There was a faint click as the window he'd used shut, but he refused to look back.

This whole thing would be easier if Stephanie never got within ten feet of him.

John was leaning against the dark town car they'd rented, for once inconspicuously dressed. His jeans were loose, his black t-shirt clung to his muscular shoulders, and the dark brim of his cap hid his eyes. He'd been playing lookout, and the cell he'd had out to warn Randy slipped into his pocket when he spotted the Viper.

It wasn't until they were inches apart did Cena speak up, "How did it go?"

Randy held out his gloved hands, the evidence of what he'd done along the surface and faintly on his face. John pulled out a handkerchief, lips turning up.

"Hold still" John murmured, reaching up and wiping away the droplets "You're covered in blood."

"I know" Randy crinkled up his nose in protest, but he let his best friend clean him up a little.

"Do you feel better?"

"Much" Randy sighed.

"What do you want now?"

"…to see Cody."

**xXxXxXx**

"So what were you going to name it?" Ted inquired, both young men sitting up in their shared bed. They were propped up against some pillows and the headboard. The window was open to let in the pale sunlight and the early morning breeze, curtains rustling softly beneath it. Cody was freshly showered and changed into some boxers (that looked suspiciously like Randy's) and tank top, which was now rucked up to reveal his stapled tummy. It was healing nicely.

Cody struggled mirthlessly, gazing down at his raw taut flesh, "I didn't even know I could have kids."

"I know you" Ted's smile was weak, some of his old self shining through "You've thought about it."

Cody pushed down his shirt, he couldn't keep anything from his best friend.

"I dunno" the brunette lied, the stray twitch of his feline ear giving him away "Maybe something cool like Jana…or Diana, Morgana. Dina, Helena."

Ted couldn't stop his chuckle, tail flicking by his thigh in delight, "Like all the chicks in the Justice League? And you said you never read DC."

Cody's face colored, eyes darting down at the bedspread.

"I'm just surprised you wouldn't want to name her Zelda" Ted continued to tease "And if it's a boy?"

"…Scott."

The serious note in his friend's voice stopped his playful needling, that sudden mood change caused his smile to fade.

"But it _was _a boy" Cody smiled faintly, clouded azure eyes tearing up "As if the great Randy Orton could have produced anything else."

Despite the joking tone, Ted could see through it.

"You _really_ wanted to give him a son, didn't you?"

Cody raised his head, the most heartbreakingly tender look on his face, "Isn't that what all subs want?"

The blonde looped his arm around his friend's shoulders, muscles faintly protesting the movement, "A lot of subs, whatever gender, never have kids. We're lucky, Codes. A lot of subs are nothing but whores for their masters. A lot of masters…have wives or husbands. Subs are play-toys, slaves."

The resentment that filled the DiBiase's voice was palpable, the younger shuddered. Ted was obviously thinking of what Dave had done to him, the degrading things he had said and the horrible offer he kept putting out there.

"But not us" his happy laugh rang hollow "We're special. Our masters love us."

Cody peered into the blonde's face, "Now that you know we can…don't you want to give John a kid?"

Ted shook his head, still forcing a smile, "Nah, not me. I'll never have any kids, Codes."

//I don't deserve that gift. To give John children…// Ted's eyes glazed over //After all the en who've had me…all the evil I've done and had done to me…I'd ruin any innocence that child could hope to have. I could never pass on these genes to anyone.//

Before Cody could call him out on his obvious lie, someone knocked on the door.

"Yeah?" Ted jumped on the chance to get out of that conversation.

The door swung open, revealing a content Canadian. Jay was carrying a tray for both the kittens, smoking sausage and pancakes layered on each plate. Tall glasses of orange juice glistened on the tray as well, rich and thick. Cody's stomach growled at the sight, he licked his lips.

"Here you are, boys" Jay laid the tray carefully on the nightstand, sighing lightly "Since you won't come down, I'm going to bring it to you. You can't just hole yourselves up here."

"We're not" Cody lied.

Jay gave him an indulgent smile, "Of course not."

The blonde turned to leave, but paused near the doorway, "…Cody?"

The younger man looked up, eyes wide, "Yeah, Jay?"

"Randy just called" Jay didn't bother to turn around, keeping his voice calm "…Hunter's dead."

Cody's breath hitched, ears pinned back. He couldn't believe it. He'd been dreaming about this man's end, to have him erased from this earth for what he'd done to him - and his son. That fact that the bastard breathed offended him. And now…now, no more breath would be drawn from the man who'd tried to destroy his life. He'd nearly died from his attack, and his child _had_.

Ted was the first to speak up, "How?"

Jay cast a look over his shoulder, eyebrow cocked, "Really? You want to know?"

"Yeah" Ted snapped, fang flashing "I want to know if the bastard finally got what he deserved!"

"He shot him" Jay spat "If you really want to know, he _shot_ him in his own home. With his kids and wife in the house. Randy _shot_ him. There, happy?"

Ted wilted under the hot stare, ears pinning back as well. He looked like a reprimanded child, eyes falling to the bedspread.

A smile split Cody's face rather suddenly, the information had sunk in.

"Codes?" Ted inquired, wondering if that was an gleam of hysteria he saw in his best friend's eyes.

"Thanks, Jay" was all Cody said.

The blonde took this as an opening to leave, and he took it. Silence followed him, both the feline-enhanced men sitting there while food should have been devoured. Neither made a move toward it, the older looking to his friend with a confused expression.

"Cody?"

"He's really dead" Cody suppressed a giggle, his heart lighter than it had for almost four weeks "He's _actually_ dead, Teddy! Hunter's just _gone_!"

Ted laid his hand on the brunette's shoulder, "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine" Cody replied jovially, reaching past his best friend "Now hand me my plate."

* * *

**I know you guys think I've abandoned these stories, but I promise, I'm not! …er, okay, a bit. But things are busy, okay? Boyfriend, pre-college, driving, I don't have time! I'm sorry, I actually am. But I'm trying, alright?**


	31. Chapter 31

An ebony painted all-terrain jeep glided across a gravel road, making little no sound as it made it's journey. Woods sprung up all around, too think to see far into. Undertaker himself sat in the passenger seat, a Harley-branded cap over his head. His eyes examined the area; there hadn't been a sign of civilization for miles. Unlike this anxious partner, the driver was much calmer.

Matt stared ahead coolly, gaze not once wavering. His gloved hands were curled around the curves of the steering wheel, dark curls held back by a double tie. He guided the jeep quite easily, even knowing the road soon ended. His plan played out in his mind like a low budget Scy-fy movie. Too real, tacky, but perfect. A smirk turned up the corners of his lips, anticipation picking up his heart rate. Images of his broken brother tainted his revenge plan, turning it bittersweet. No matter what he did to Scott, the damage had already been done. The wounds would heal, but Jeff would have those scars forever.

But that wasn't going to stop him from going through with it.

**xXx**

Raven gasped hoarsely, jolted from his drugged sleep. Is mind dragged him back to consciousness, but his body was slow to catch up. It took him some difficult moments to pry his eyes open, but it didn't help him.

All around him was pitch black, the stink of tire rubber and engine cleaner. He was on his side, arms pulled tight behind his back. The scratch of rope told him why, and a thick strip of leather kept him quiet. Sweat was beading along his brow, his neck, the air stuffy. Wherever he was, he was moving. The crunch of gravel was loud in his ears, and when he tried to stretch, his feet struck a wall. Even when his eyes adjusted, it took him some painfully long moments to figure out where he was.

Someone had bound and stuffed him in a trunk.

Raven couldn't recall his last moments before it all went dark, but he could recall he'd been picking p some beer before he left to his house. He'd been in the convenience store, the bell on the door had chimed, it all went pretty quiet, then…nothing.

Raven's breath started to pick up, his heart taking a rabbit's rhythm. His limp flaxen hair stuck to his forehead, his cheeks, making the flesh itch.

He would know soon enough who had done this.

**xXx**

Hours later, Raven was awoken rather rudely with a hand around his throat.

"Wake up, you son'bitch."

The coarse drawl brought him back to his senses, powerful arms dragging him out of the trunk and dropping him onto the uneven ground. The blonde groaned as a stick dug into his side, dried leaves brushing his cheek. He tried to take in his surroundings, but his vision was filled with a pair of worn leather boots.

"Look at this trash" Matt kicked, the toe of his boot striking between the older man's ribs. He got a grunt from Raven, but the man wasn't about to be broken so easily. The bastard's dark eyes rolled up towards him, a scowl twisting his lips.

"Of course" Raven snorted, cheeky even after the game was over "It _would_ be you, wouldn't it?"

Matt didn't reply, he reaching down and grabbed the blonde by the collar. He turned and started further into the woods, dragging the wrestler behind him. He had maneuvered his jeep through a broader part of the forest, deeper into it, stopping in a rough clearing so he could take Raven himself. The bastard was putting up a fight, thrashing his bound legs and arms. It did him no good; the knots were too well done. The Hardy took him off past the tree line, not an ounce of regret in his eyes. His face was a blank mask of indifference.

Mark was waiting in the jeep; he wanted to let the darkest of his court have his own way.

"There's no use fighting it" Matt pointed out, dragging his fellow wrestler past a tree and deeper into the woods "You sealed yer fate when you decided my brother as yer target."

"You should be grateful, Matthew" Raven taunted "It was almost you."

Matt didn't even look down; he refused to encourage the man.

"Admit it, you're jealous" Raven smirked through his fear "You're jealous because I put the whip to baby Hardy before you did. I bet you've always wanted to, huh?

Matt didn't dignify him with an answer. He didn't stop until he was sure he was far enough out, in an area where the moonlight could only wish to reach. He dropped Raven with a graceless thud, watching the other squirm to get up on his knees. It was the most dignity a bound person could have, all things considering. He was panting by the time he could raise his head up victoriously, his kohl-stained cheeks flushed from the exertion of the act.

Matt pulled a handle of polished wood and metal from his pocket, fingers curled loosely around it's sleek surface. He held it out, letting the older man get a good glimpse of it before he flicked it outward. A slim hunting blade flipped out, snapping firmly into place. A Buck 110, one he had gotten when he was younger and had forgotten about it.

" 'am not much of a hunter" Matt drawled, angling the blade just right to catch the light "But I'm not above feedin' the hungry."

"What the hell do you think you're going to do with that?" Raven snapped, eyeing the knife warily "You can't just _gut_ me out here! I'm a human being, not a pig!"

Matt cocked his head, "I beg to differ."

The moment the Hardy stepped closer, the blonde started to squirm, "Matthew, be reasonable."

A smile curled the southerner's full lips, "Yer scared of death, aren't you?"

Raven instantly cooled. He wasn't afraid to die, but that didn't mean he was so eager to go down without a fight.

"Death is terrifyin' because it's so ordinary" Matt quoted "It happens all the time."

"Don't spout that crap at me" Raven jeered, straightening his back and trying to look menacing "Careful, Matthew, someone might accuse you of being unoriginal."

Matt flexed his neck, the tension there visible.

"Oh no, who could accuse you of such a thing when compared to your _younger_brother" Raven continued on, hoping to fry the man's nerves "That's why I chose him, you know. You were a beckoning shadow, but a _shadow_ you remained. He is all sweetness and light, and you are left with nothing in this industry! Jeff is favored, loved. You can say you own him, but no one can own someone like him."

Matt's eyes were smoldering, he continued closer.

"I saved you the trouble of destroying him" Raven spouted quickly "You know, deep down, you hate him. Every time you wrap your hand around his throat, every time he's writhing beneath you…every time he screams your name and begs for release…"

Matt opened his mouth to deny it, but no words came out.

"I know how you tick, Matthew. We're on in the same. You can only hold onto a rainbow for so long before you want to do everything in your power to destroy it. You've _wanted_ to destroy him. Maybe not consciously, but you _know_ I'm right. In the dead of night, with him lying naked and warm beside you…you've thought about slitting that pretty little neck."

Something flashed in Matt's eyes, but Raven couldn't tell if he'd gotten through to the Hardy. Matt towered over, the knife glinting dangerously from his clenched hand. His left came out, fingers curling along the blonde's shoulder. A solid push accompanied another step forward, leaning Raven backwards.

"Yer a sick man" Matt pushed the man down, pinning him on his back " 'ah love 'mah brother. He's mine, and I take care of him."

Matt brandished the blade, dropping down to straddle the older man's torso, "You don' know me. Don't pretend you know what 'ahve been through or what 'ah think."

"Going to cut my heart out?" Raven sneered "Always the common Hardy. Not an original idea in your head."

Matt leant down, bracing his palms on either side of the man's head. He lowered his head beside the other's mouth close to his pierced ear.

"Death is not the greatest of evils" he sighed "It is worse to want to die…and not be able to."

Matt sat up, raising the knife. His left hand was just as strong as his other, and he clamped it down on Raven's neck with all his might. He caught the blonde just below the chin, holding him in place.

"Don't!"

That was the only plea Raven could utter before the knife was inched toward his face, its intention obvious. Matt was careful with the sleek tip, pinning the man even harder as it got closer to its target.

It was surprising easy to carve out Raven's eye. The blade slid under the soft of his eye, into the socket, and one twisting swipe severed the twisted chord of nerves and tissue. He could feel the give in his hand, but the man's screams flooded his ears. The powerful body beneath his twisted, but he held firm. Raven's face twisted up in horror, mindless shrieks escaping his lips as the Hardy lifting the gelatinous substance out of the pocket with the end of his knife.

Matt lifted it up to examine the dark iris, smiling at it, "Hello, there."

"You son of a bitch!" Raven was screaming obscenities like anyone would "I'll kill you! I'll kill you and your whore brother!"

Blood poured from the abandoned socket, streaming down the man's face.

Matt could've countered with so many things. This man had tried to destroy his family, his life, by laying his hands on Jeff. He wasn't going to sit idly by and let karma happen. No. This is what Scott deserved.

"Calm yourself" Matt backhanded the blonde, disgusted with the display "I'm not going to kill you."

/You chose this for yourself./

Raven's shouting turned hoarse, begging in whispers and cursing in pants in a sham of a pattern. With the adrenaline starting to fade, Matt could more easily keep the blonde down. The second eye was much easier. It came out with an almost pop, the sharp edge taking care of all that hindered him. Crimson oozed faster this time, colored a fresh red and stinking like copper. The man was still thrashing beneath him, but he couldn't hurt a fly now.

"The pain mus' be…_unbearable_" Matt got to his feet, giving the older man a swift kick that rolled him onto his stomach. With a few harsh movements, the ropes wrapped around Scott's legs and wrists fell away. They curled on the dirt like limp snakes, the blonde's hands clenched in the grass and braced his knees on the ground.

Matt backed off to the side, then paused to watch.

"Where are you?" Raven screamed, scarlet tears dripping down his cheeks and puddling in the dirt "Where the fuck are you, Hardy? _Where_?"

Matt carefully slid the knife closed, tucking it into his pocket. That old saying of 'when one sense is hindered, the others are enhanced' only works when your nerve center _wasn't_ flooded with pain. He knew these grounds well, he knew what the scent of blood would summon. The Hardy boys had gotten themselves lost here once as teenagers. This was before the tattoos, before Undertaker's court, before Jeff was his sub. Matt could still recall his younger brother's frightened form pressed up behind him, lips quivering in terror as they came face to face with a few demons.

Matt walked camly back the way he'd come, not once looking back at the pathetic mess he'd created.

**xXx**

Scott clawed blindly at the ground, hot pulses of agony filling his skull. Leaves and bits of twigs piled under his desperate palms, not a trace of leather.

"Hardy!" he barked, it was a demand for sight. A vast void of darkness encompassed him on all sides, every angle he tilted his head only showed him more emptiness. His arms trembled violently as he tried to crawl forward, shuffling pitifully ahead. He scratched around for a tree, a show, anything to get himself to his feet or closer to Matt. He'd strangle that bastard! Matt had taken him here, had planned this whole thing out. The dark Hardy had wanted him like this, dooming him to wander around forever in this God forsaken place.

Scott's stomach cramped, he couldn't stop himself from spilling his stomach all over the ground. The shock had gotten to him, his body recognized that a vital organ was gone and it wasn't pleased. It stopped suddenly, leaving him with the sor taste of his own bile. He managed to sit up on his knees, wiping the back of his hand across his mouth. There was something slick on his face, something like…

Scott cringed, his face was caked in his own blood.

There was a howl from somewhere in front of him, clear as day. Scott panicked, shuffling backward across the forest debris until his back smacked into a tree. He scrambled to get to his feet, clinging onto the bark for dear life. He tried to hear something past the pounding in his head, but it was difficult to tell if that shuffling sound was his imagination or not.

"That's enough, Hardy!" he hissed aimlessly, cring out as he turned to "look around." The muscles left writhin in his skull, nearly causing him to empty the restof his stomach out.

Something was coming for him, and Scott wasn't about to wait around for it.

Raven took off as fast as his weakend knees would allow him, unsure if he was going farther into the woods or not. He didn't care at this point, he just wanted to get away. He bounced painfully off trees as he went, his shoulders jolting the solid structures from his blindness. His lungs and head ached, hands stretched out to keep him from hurting himself too badly. Something was chasing him, he could hear the thuds. One? Three? He couldn't tell. He could hear the forest giving way beneath _them_ as it did for him.

But it was a useless effort.

Raven's feet went out from uder him, sending him sprawling forward on his belly. Twigs and rocks ripped up his arms, shredding the flesh. Leaves brushed his cheeks, but he couldn't find the stretngth to sit up. Everything ached, even his tumbled hair seemed to ail him. He braced his palms on the ground, managing to raise his head. He could hear noises…he couldn't quite put his finger on it, but it sounded a lot like…

_Breathing_.

A growl echoed somewhere behind him, just a few feet away…the sound echoed in his ears.

_Death is not the greatest of evils. It is worse to want to die…and not be able to._

Matt knew this would happen, he'd planned this out from the start. The cunning Hardy had let him seal his own fate. He'd given chase to these demons, and they'd come hungry and licking their chops. Raven wouldn't be wandering around these woods forever.

Another snarl assaulted his ears.

_Wolves_.

**xXx**

Matt was sitting in the jeep, eyes closed and head tilted back against the seat. Mark sat motionless beside him, eyes set forward in a cold stare. They could hear Scott's screams off in the distance, he had run himself much further into the woods than was really safe. The screams of the horrid wrestler echoed throughout the trees, the dense of the woods stopping them before they went too far.

"Do you feel better?" Mark inquired.

"Yes" Matt stated curtly.

"Was it necessary to draw it out like this?"

Matt's ebony lashes fluttered, revealing their dark treasures, "Yes."

Undertaker couldn't help but smirk, /That's my dark boy./

"Let's go" Mark instructed "The wolves hunger could turn on us if we linger."

Matt sat up, nodding, "Yes, sir."

**xXxXxXx**

Jay had cleaned and dressed Phil's back, making sure to keep his touch gentle. It was the third day the masters were gone, and the subs were pretty quiet. Evan's fever had broken, Morrison's gash had scabbed over really well. In a few places, Jay had been bold enough to remove some of the staples. Thanks to the medical creams they'd been given, it seemed as if neither John nor Jeff would carry any serious scars. Punk's back would always be marred, but the rawness was starting to heal. Cody personally tended to Ted, and the Canadian sub would help when he was needed.

At almost any time of the day, at least one of the showers were being used. Skin was scraped red from the thought of being dirty, tainted. They could hear stifled sobs came from the kittens room, in both Ted and Cody's tone. Evan slept and watched TV a lot. Morrison's fingers still trembled at the oddest moments, he'd broken several dishes before Jeff had asked him kindly to let _him_ handle it. Jeff and Jay kept themselves busy with everyone, cooking up all this food and keeping wounds tended to. Jeff wasn't domestic, but his best friend's natural maternal instincts had set off his own.

They were living.

Currently, Jeff was heating up the kitchen with cornbread, mashed potatoes, and thick breasts of chicken. His headband held back his bangs, a tie binding the rest. He wiped the sweat from his brow with the back of his hand, eyes fluttering closed as he took a moment to rest. Cooking could be a work out when you did it all yourself. Usually Ted or Evan would help him out, but the ravenette was stretched out on the grass outside sunbathing while the other was recuperating in his room. Since Jay was with Phil, he was left all alone with the task. To be honest, he preferred it that way.

The chicken was roasting, potatoes boiling, and cornbread baked and ready. His stomach growled loudly at the prospect of a traditional Southern dinner. Amongst the Hardys, Matt was the chef to the gods. Jeff? He was pretty decent. He'd been left on his own enough to learn to feed himself properly.

Jeff stretched, letting out a low hiss when his back protested. The wounds, even though they were healing, still stung. They didn't hinder him, but they were a nuisance and a constant reminder of what had gone down.

_Oh yeah! Woo!I can slam a tornado!__  
I can dry up a sea__  
When I live for the moment  
There ain't no fucking with me_

Jeff gasped softly, hurrying to the counter and snatching up his cell. He leant against the ledge, flipping open the device and putting it to his ear.

"Hey, big bro."

A velvet chuckle came across the line, "_Hey, Jeffy._"

At the risk of sounding stupid, he could only utter one thing, "What's up?"

"_It's done._"

The words caused a bloom of sweet pain in his heart. His knees gave out, one hand still clinging to the counter as he dropped slowly to the floor. A ragged breath escaped him, fingers curling tighter around the phone.

"…are…" Jeff wet his lips "Are you sure?"

"_I'm sure you don' wan' me to go into any details_" Matt drawled, sounding pleased "_But I can say one thing…_"

Jeff slumped against the cabinets, "What?"

"…_the growl of a wolf must be twice as terrifyin' if you can't see._"

Sick satisfaction filled Jeff up, the image enough to sate the beast inside him. Jeff stood up, turning and catching his reflection in one of the glass cabinets that held the dishes.

"Everything's gonna be different now" Jeff stated, reaching up and tugging out his hair tie. The natural blonde strands flowed over his shoulders and along his back. He admired them, but he was starting to outgrow the look. He danced his fingers over the surface of them, sighing at their silky texture.

"_Change is good_" Matt replied, sounding sincere.

"Yeah" Jeff dropped his hand, coming to a decision "Change is good."

Even hundreds of miles away, identical smirks twisted the Hardy boys lips.

**xXx**

A small black sport's car pulled up the long, gravel drive to the Hardys' house. Jay was on the porch, handsome face twisted into an expression vexation, arms crossed over his chest and eyes narrowed at the vehicle. He was positively fuming, standing at the top of the steps like he owned the place. These last two weeks, he practically ran it , so he had every right to be pissed.

Evan was on the lowest step, his mood more upset than angry at the baby Hardy's disappearance. One of the Hardy's beagle's was rubbing his muzzle along the man's calf, yipping softly from the lack of attention. The two men had been waiting there for a good part of an hour, deciding to stay put after putting in a few laps around the house trying to find Jeff.

Now here the man was, simply driving up like he hadn't scared them all to death.

Jeff sighed as he saw his two friends waiting on him, he should've known better than to leave without telling anyone. But this was something he had to do on his own, and it hadn't taken too long. He parked carelessly, slinging gravel beneath the force of his swerve. He killed the engine, sighing as the music he'd been blasting died away. He looked up into the rearview mirror, searching for and finding his reflection.

Jeff reached up, touching his hair, /Here goes nothing./

Jeff got out of the car, squinting into the bright noon day sun. He had shed his brother's hoody for one of Matt's t-shirts instead, some obscure quotes scrawled across the chest in gold and loose around his hips. He slammed the door shut, boots crunching against the gravel as he shifted his weight. He started across the driveway, tattooed fingers fiddling with the keys as he went.

Christian marched down the steps, a snarl on his face, "Where the _hell_ have you been? Do you have any idea how long we've been looking for you? You didn't leave a note or even call! What the fuck were you thinking, Hardy?"

Jeff winced at the harsh words, "Come on, Jay."

Evan peered closely at him, his voice was soft, "Your hair…"

Jay opened his mouth to start rambling, but his expression slowly softened. He came up into Jeff's personal space, taking his shoulder in one hand and touching his hair with the other. All those blonde locks were gone, chopped off. He was nearly sheered in the back, longer in the front. The tresses still framed his face, though a bit messy from where he'd been raking his fingers through it.

"Damn, Jeff" Jay muttered, taking in the new look.

"You like it?" Jeff inquired, unsure what the reaction would be.

After nearly a minute, Jay let him go only to embrace him tightly. The Hardy was surprised, but hugged him back anyway. The contact felt good, it felt safe. He buried his face in the blonde's shoulder, relief filling them both.

"I was afraid they'd gotten you" Jay admitted softly "We were all freaking out."

" 'M sorry" Jeff replied honestly "I just needed to do this…for me. I can't control a lot of things, but I can control my hair."

Jay pulled away, looking his best friend over, "Yeah, I understand. Remember?"

They both laughed, eyes going to their short crops of hair.

"You look good" Jay stated.

Jeff actually laughed, "Thanks, man."

Evan scratched the little beagle on the head, smiling at the scene.

Things were slowly but surely getting back to normal, but it would be a different kind of normal.

* * *

**The hair-cutting thing was a last minute idea, since Jeff cut it off for TNA. It looks hot.**


	32. Chapter 32

**So my Christian muse had a spazz attack when someone left a review that said he hadn't really been 'hit' by what had happened to him. He started ranting, pacing, and demanding this and that. So I pacified him by…blowing up my Adam muse. **

* * *

"They're all dead?" Evan echoed the statement of his friend "Every one of them?"

The subs had crowded on the porch this early morning. It was a week since the masters had left, and they were anxious for their return.

Jeff was buried in his brother's hoody once more, the dark material stark against his pale skin. He and Jay were in the porch swing, a cup of hot coffee curled in the Canadian's

hands.

Evan was on the steps of the porch, two of the Hardys' yard dogs curled up on either side of him. Cody was seated on the railing, his own jacket's hood pulled up over his head. Ted stood beside him, a thick sweatshirt covering him up.

Jake was leaning against the railing at the end of the porch, closest to the two men on the swing. Morrison was messing with the blooms tumbling over the flower pot hanging on the porch, a small smile on his face as he fingered the petals.

And finally, Phil was sitting in the cushioned chair across from the Friday Night Delight. He had a blanket wrapped around his shoulders, bandages visible across his chest and covering the length of his pale. He had gained back some weight, but he was still pale. Purple shadows stained the skin beneath his eyes, showing how much he was torn up on the inside as well as the out. He had his soft sweat pants around his hips, protecting him from the slight bite of the early morning.

Jay nodded to affirm the ravenette, "Every. Last. One."

Evan dropped his eyes to the ground, "Oh."

Jay didn't seem the least bit phased as he delivered this new to his friends, "Yeah, 'oh'."

John seemed pleased enough, devilishly satisfied with what his master had done. He had gotten Shawn to go against everything he believed in to fight for his honor, and he was damn proud of himself for it. Cody seemed pleased as well, carrying the same turn of his lips that Jeff himself sported.

"It's all well and good to be dead" Punk tilted his head back against the chair, lids at half-mast "They're just as beneficial as they were in life."

"Well 'thaid" Jake chimed in, inclining his head toward the head sub.

A phone went off, all looking toward each other until Jay stood up.

"Sorry, guys, it's me" the blonde set his coffee aside, fishing his cell out his pocket. He flashed his best friend a smile, walking off the porch until his feet hit gravel. He peered down at the screen, eyebrows shooting up to his hairline at the name flashing there.

"Michaels?" Jay couldn't help but snap, so thrown off he barely choked out a polite "Sir."

"_Jason_" Shawn sounded out of breath, flustered even "_Something_ _happened_."

"What?" Jay put his hand on his hip, nose crinkling up rather cutely "What happened? Where's Adam?"

"_Listen, Jay, I can't word this right…_" Shawn struggled to explain, the swish of him running his hand through his hair audible over the phone "_On our way back, we stopped 'cause Adam was bitchin' about food. And I told him 'ta eat earlier, but Angle couldn't wait…but when we stopped…_"

"What?" Jay insisted hotly, unsure what the master meant.

"_We may have gotten Angle with Kill Bill_" Shawn tried to put it delicately "_But someone pulled a Goodfellas on Adam's car before we left._"

Jay choked a bit, unsure what this meant, "Please, just…what happened?"

"_Someone planted a car bomb_" Shawn finally got out "_I was in the back of the house, in case the bastard ran. And someone -probably that coward Styles- came up and did a number on the car. It was a delayed bomb, Jason. Twenty-four hours…it just happened an hour or so ago._"

"H-How…? AJ's dead!"

"_There were small town car tracks, I wouldn't of heard a thing_" Shawn tried to explain "_I'm sorry, Jason, I really am. I should've paid more attention, but I really didn't hear anything. From what Jericho said, that little runt went straight to the airport afterward-_"

"I don't give a shit about that!" Jay barked at the man, acid biting at the back of his throat "Where's Adam? Is he alright?"

"_Ja…on…I co…Adam…doctor…co…dn't do…thing for him…_"

"Shawn!" Jay was screaming now "I can't hear you! Where's Adam!"

The line went dead.

Jay listened intently, pressing the device harder to his ear in a vain attempt to hear anything other than the void on the other end. The cell suddenly flew to the gravel, lying limp and useless there. He couldn't figure out how it had happened, until he looked down at his hands and saw how badly they were shaking.

"Jay?" came a husky whisper closer to his ear, a tattooed hand coming out to cover one of his. A warm body pressed along his side, grounding him.

"Jeffy" Jay whimpered, his other hand wrapped around the younger man's decorated forearm "Something's happened…Adam…my Addy…"

Jay was somewhere between choking on his breath and throwing up, bile scorching his throat.

"Be calm" Jeff begged, finding he had to wrap his other arm around his friend's waist to keep him standing "Now, tell me slow…"

"Michaels said something about a bomb…a car bomb…" the blonde clung to his best friend "AJ, that rat bastard, he planted it before Chris could snuff him out…a hospital, and doctors…"

"Shit" Jeff tightened his grip "Is Adam okay?"

Jay spat out the most painful words he'd ever had to utter.

"I don't even know if my brother's alive."

**xXx**

Adam was sprawled out in the back of Michaels car, his fingers busy massaging his throbbing temples. He was waiting for the Tylenol to kick in, but he wasn't having any luck today. Nearly twenty-four hours after he'd released the mamba on Angle, he found out that Styles (that little shit) had snuck by and planted something under the car they'd been using.

They'd stopped to get food at some little diner along a backroad. While Shawn was paying their bill, Adam had walked toward the car with long strides. He'd looked down to go through his keys, a clicking sound hitting his ears seconds before a piece of his driver's side door had smacked him in the head.

Adam had been knocked on his back, out for just a few minutes before Shawn had shaken him awake. Groggy and bitching about the blood in his eyes, Adam had been informed that their car had just blown up in the parking lot and that they needed to get the hell out of there. It was a shock, to say the least.

And now, Shawn was driving them towards the Hardys' home where both their loves were residing.

"Are you sure you got the message to Jay?" Adam cracked his eyes open, peering at the older man driving.

"I think I screwed it up" Shawn muttered, eyes on the road.

"Damn it" Adam growled, clenching his eyes shut again "He's going to kill me…that was his favorite car."

"I tried to tell him, but he started screamin' at me" Shawn griped "That brother 'ah yers has a mouth on him."

"Don't I know it" the Canadian couldn't help but grin, despite the pain "I love him, though."

"I know you do" the legend smiled to himself.

"How happy do you think he'll be to see me?"

"Very."

**xXx**

"Come on, big guy" Jeff hefted one side of the futon, the large All-American American picking up the slack from the other "We got this."

Cody (who had come down for a snack) was shuffling toward the laundry room, all the sheets and blankets they had been using the past weeks layered on his small form. Morrison followed him, snickering with his arms full of pillows.

Jake kept up his end, taking most of the weight as they took the heavy mattress back to the other side of the house.

Jay was too busy worrying himself up into a knot, using the bare space that the futon left to pace. He was biting down his nails furiously, three fingers already stained with crimson from his savage chewing. He had already thrown up once from nerves alone, stomach still cramping but not enough to make him dry heave.

Addy…his big brother, his protector, his defender. What had happened to Adam? What was Shawn trying to tell him? He couldn't decipher the short conversation, no matter how many times he turned it over in his head. His heart was shredded at the thought of his brother dead, in pieces, just _hurt_. It was a horrible concept, to think that one's lover and sibling was lying half-alive in a hospital somewhere.

/And it's all my fault/ Jay scolded himself, clawing his hand through his hair /I let myself be attacked, I let Angle have me like a common whore on the stairs…I shouldn't have named him, I should've just said it was some guy I didn't know. Those bastards were all working together, of course someone was watching Angle's house. Of course they'd strike back. AJ hated me, still hates me…he'd hurt Adam just to spite me, court or no./

Christian was strong. Edge's angel was fierce, mouthy, he didn't take crap from anyone in or out of the ring.

But Adam's Jay-Jay was weak for his master, vulnerable, tender-hearted.

/A bomb/ was what his thoughts kept coming back to.

"Jay?" it was a tender coo, much smoother than Jeff's drawl. The Canadian turned, brow creased in permanent worry. Ted was standing there, his hoody shed to reveal his threadbare wife beater. His kitten ears were exposed, equally golden tail swaying softly behind him. He was such a very pretty boy, a world-hardened tom cat to counter Cody's kittenish innocence. Both had been through so much, and yet here they were: half-wrestlers, all sub.

"I know you're not okay, that's a stupid question" Ted wasn't sure what to say, but he had grown to really care for Jay "But…I'm sure Adam's okay. You would know first, wouldn't you? Out of all of us, even Shawn…you would know if Adam was dead."

Jay half-sputtered, "Well, yeah! I would feel it, a part of me would be gone."

"Do you feel like that?"

Jay checked his feelings carefully, "No. Just worried."

"Then he's fine" the younger man always had a cold logic about him, a companion to his distrustful nature.

"I can't be sure" Jay protested, eyes dancing all over the floor as if he'd dropped his brother's fate "I wish I knew…I hate this…what if he's dead? What if I can't feel it and he's dead somewhere?"

Ted came up to his fellow blonde, putting a hand on his shoulder and leaning in. He brushed a warm, soft kiss across Jay's stubbled cheek.

"We're here for you" Ted stated softly, hoping the action would convey his sympathy. He ducked his head and stepped back, sure he had overstepped his bounds. Jay was his sparring partner, his favorite to train with, his coffee buddy, and his solemn confidant when Cody couldn't be found. Maybe it proper, but it was just a way to comfort his friend. He chewed his lower lip, afraid to look up.

Jay cupped the boy's face, tilting his chin up to find that weariness replaced with vulnerability.

"Kid" Jay wasn't sure what to say to this, brow still heavily creased "You're sweet under all that serious crap, you know that?"

"I mean it, Jay" Ted assured him.

"I know" the older man pulled him closer by the hold on his face "Come here."

Ted flushed, his forehead receiving a kiss. Giving him a last pat on the head, Jay turned and started his pacing again.

"Shouldn't you be off playing with Cody?" he inquired off-handedly.

Ted was about to shoot back something nasty about biting the hand the offers to help you up, but then he glanced down at the older man's hands. Jay's fingers were trembling rather violently, showing his inner turmoil

"Jay…your hands…"

"I'm fine!" Christian snapped, refusing to look at the other.

"You're not" Ted replied simply, not an ounce of conviction in his voice.

Jeff entered, seeing his best friend at the breaking point. He took across the room in long strides, grabbing Jay by the arm and leading him toward the front porch.

"Jake got a text from Miz" Jeff whispered to him, opening the door and shoving the blonde out "Everyone will be home in a few hours. Let's wait on the porch before you break my brother's house."

Jeff knew those were the wrong words. At the mention of 'brother', the Candian's angry flush faded to leave a blanched frown on his face. Without a word, Jay dropped to sit on the top step of the porch. He kept his eyes to the gravel, something inside him shutting down out of hopelessnes. He couldn't do anything, why should he rant and pace?

If Adam was even alive, he was much too far away for his reach.

**xXxXxXx**

Evan climbed the steps, glad to find he'd gotten most of his strength back. Jeff had loudly proclaimed that they needed to vacuum the living room they had trashed the past couple of weeks, and after a rather drawn out pause he inquired to those around him where the vacuum was actually at. He had volunteered to search upstairs for it, but he didn't have high hopes.

A shadow played over the wall, making the small man freeze. His dark eyes darted around, trying to find the source. For a second, he though he felt something on his back and jumped. He whipped around, finding no one on the stairs. He shuddered, something warm touching the nape of his neck. He fell on his ass, pressing himself against the wall and rubbing over his neck.

"_You are such a little thing…"_

Evan started to scramble backwards up the stairs, breath coming a bit faster. He shook his head, trying to dislodge the voice in his head. Was it in his head? Was AJ really dead?

/No, please no…/

Evan finally got to the top, all but crawling up the wall to get to his feet. He backed away from the stairs, acting like a scared bunny watching the bushes for the weasel. He hurried to get out of the shadows, in such a haste that he ended up smacking against the full-length window along the hallway. He pressed flat again the icy surface, clenching his eyes shut. He was trembling, shaking his head as if to dislodge the memories.

"_Be good for a second and I'll make the pain go away, alright boy?"_

"Shut up" Evan whispered, lightly knocking his head off the glass.

"_Do you know how long I've wanted you, Evan?"_

He struck his head harder, "Please just…shut up."

AJ's voice rang clear, he couldn't shake it. He braced his palms on the window, the rest of the world faded away as he tried to get a grip on reality.

_Thunk. Thunk._

"…shut up…"

"_Do you know how fucking pissed off I was when I found out you had a master?"_

_Thunk. Crick. Thunk. Crack._

"Shut up!"

"_That you were some bitch-boy for Y2J-ackass?"_

"SHUT UP!"

_Crunch. Thump. Crunch._

"What the hell are you doing?"

Evan snapped out of it, eyes widening innocently. Phil was there in front of him, wrapping his arms around his waist and pulling him away from the window. He all but fell into the older man's body, blinking dully as the world came back in a wave of light and _real_ sound.

Punk sighed in relief, taking the kid away from the window. There was a crater where Evan had been pounding his head into, the glass had started to crackle and spider out. A few more good smacks would have shattered, the power and positioning of the blow would have completely collapsed the surface. Evan would have fallen from the second floor, he could've been seriously injured…or killed, depending on the angle.

"Stupid kid" Phil brushed a little kiss into his raven hair "What were you thinking?"

"I…" Evan couldn't finish, cause he really had no idea.

Phil gently brushed the glass from the smaller man's hair, feeling around for any blood. There were a few scratches, but only one was bleeding - and it was minor. A scrape, nothing more.

"You're lucky" he held him by the arms, holding him out to examine him "Are you okay, Ev? You looked like you were freaking out."

"I thought I heard…" Evan closed his eyes briefly, letting his mind refocus "I thought I heard Styles."

Punk's heartstrings were tugged by this, touched by this boy's lost innocence. He brought him into a hug again, one much firmer and more fatherly.

"It's okay, Ev" Phil was glad that the smaller responded, hugging him back "You're safe here."

A few moments passed before a sob echoed throughout the hallway, Evan's grip tightening. He buried his face in Phil's shoulder, tears flowing freely as he released his anguish.

"I t-thought he was h-here…I-I thought he - he'd come back to get me" Evan tried not to sound like a woman, but he couldn't stop the words from pouring out "It was all m-my fault, I trusted h-him and he…Chris t-told me not to trust him…and I di-didn't listen…"

"Shhh" Phil soothed "Calm down, kid. It wasn't your fault. You didn't ask for this, and Chris knows it wasn't your fault."

Evan nodded, trusting the older man.

They both realized that they all had a long way to go before they established a sense of normal again.

**xXxXxXx**

Hours later, Jay was still there.

John and Randy were the first to arrive out of the court, the Hummer slinging gravel in the driveway like it was nothing. Jay watched them come up the driveway without expression, simply moving to the side of the stairs as he continued to pray for his own master. Giving it a second thought, he moved up to the porch swing and perched himself there instead.

Morrison was peeking through the curtains inside the house, a smile curling his lips, "Kittens! They're home!"

There was a heavy thump from upstairs, then the sound of Teddy, "Don't run, you'll hurt yourself!"

Despite the warning, both of the kittens came bounding down the stairs. Cody had an arm cradled protectively around his midriff, but an ecstatic smile was brightening his face. Ted seemed just as eager, reaching the bottom first and shooting past the others to the door with his golden tail flickering behind him. He ran out, getting as far as the bottom of the steps before he stopped dead.

Cody wasn't so struck, he continued on and found his master's loving embrace.

John and Randy hopped out of the car, Orton actually laughing as he caught his boy around the waist and lifted him into a hug.

"Randy" Cody sighed in his ear, hands roaming hungrily over the older man's decorated arms and shoulders. Randy sighed as well, burying his nose in soft raven hair and inhaling the clean, sweet scent of him. His palms came to rest on the younger's hips, cradling them.

"My sweet" he rumbled, holding him as tightly as he dared. Cody curled into him obediently, resting his head in the strong curve of his master's neck.

"You killed him, didn't you?"

The purring inquiry didn't surprise Randy, he knew what kind of mean streak his sub had. Everyone thought Cody was some sweet, innocent angel of a kitten. Always so soft-spoken, always with his head down, always with a kind word for someone in need. But underneath the surface, there were shimmers of a darker nature. Gleaming, writhing, as enchanting as quicksilver and gone just as quickly. It was what bound Randy to the young man, his shadow nature reflected the Viper's own.

"Yes…I shot him myself. I watched him die."

Cody closed his eyes in bliss, "Good."

John walked past the couple all but snuggled by the car, rolling his eyes fondly at the tender display. He spotted his own kitten, motionless, by the steps of the porch. He looked so lost, golden ears pinned back on his head, his face without a readable expression. John took off his shades, tossing them to the gravel as he approached his target.

Ted tensed for just a moment, knowing John was heading right toward them. Though his body was afraid of being hurt, his heart told him that John would never hurt him. Slowly, he relaxed, and when he looked up into his master's face he knew everything was okay. He was stronger than most, he knew John would never hurt him. No matter what.

John reached out, grabbing his boy by the hips with a gentle touch and bringing him closer. Ted fanned his hands across the older man's pecs, slowly moving them up to curl around his shoulders. Their foreheads touched, warmth flowing between them.

"Does it hurt?" John inquired softly.

"Terribly" Ted murmured.

John ran his hands up under the younger man's soft hoody, carefully avoiding the bandages still there from bites and lashes, "I'll take care of you, kitten."

Ted couldn't stop the little purr that escaped him, breathing in the scent he loved so much.

John's lips brushed his feline ear, "I can't wait to take you home."

On the porch, Christian grew more anxious.

* * *

**I shouldn't cut it off here, but that's long enough.**


	33. Chapter 33

It had been an hour since the kittens had disappeared upstairs with their masters, eager to soak in their presence after so long apart. Jay was getting restless on the porch, raking his fingers through his short hair. He was informed two more of the masters would be showing up soon enough, but he wasn't sure who exactly it would be.

A strangled cry echoed above his head, shaking him out of his melancholy. He got to his feet, tilting his head to try and listen for the sound again. It was coming from one of the windows, it's echo faint throughout the rest of the house.

/It sounds like…/ Jay's eyes widened suddenly /Jeff!/

Discarding all his own emotions, Jay went to and yanked open the front door. He bolted toward the stairs, his strides wide enough to take two at a time. He almost fell twice, but he didn't stop. He made a straight-shot for the younger Hardy's bedroom, where the fearful cries were coming from. He didn't hesitate to pull open the door, forgoing all decency and manners.

Jeff sat up bolt right, head thrown back to release a howl of agony. His lithe body rocked, sweat slicking his chest and beaded across his forehead from the horrific nightmare that had been plaguing him for the last few hours. He could still feel Raven like grime on his skin, eating away at him like acid. Tears burned paths down his cheeks, feet violently kicking off the blanket he had been napping with.

"Get 'im off me!" Jeff begged hoarsely, scratching at his arms in an attempt to make the shadows of t he man's touch disappear "Get 'im off me! Please!"

"Jeff?" Jay called, staying in the doorway.

"Please!" Jeff was breathless, his scratching becoming harder down his arms "Get 'im the fuck off me…"

Jay watched in horror as blood starting blooming along the pale, tattooed flesh. Jeff's nails were long, cutting the skin, shredding it until his life essence had no choice but to pour out of him. It smeared and dripped down his forearms like paint, ruining his ink.

"Jeff…" Jay gained back his voice and his mobility, rushing forward "Stop! Stop it!"

Jeff roared when the blonde grabbed him, yanking his hands away from his forearms. He fought the other, thrashing and kicking to get away.

"Stop it, Jeffy!" Jay commanded, it was difficult to keep his grip with the slick of blood hindering him "Raven's dead, your brother told you so himself! Raven's _dead_, do you understand?"

"Dead?" Jeff echoed back, glassy emerald eyes fluttering open to find his best friend's concerned face hovering over him.

"Yeah, Jeffy, dead" Jay assured him, wrapping an arm along the base of his back "No one's here."

Jeff instinctively curled up, wincing as he first noticed the throb of his scored arms. He looked down at them, horrified to see the marks he left. He bit his lower lip, glad he had taken out the piercing earlier. He could've really hurt himself in his hysteria, he could've ripped the ring right out with a hard enough bite. What was his brother going to say when he saw the fresh marks? And just as the whip-marks on his back had begun to fade…he pulled this…

"How did you know?" Jeff drawled lowly "To come up here, that is."

Jay glanced at the floor briefly, "You were screaming, man."

"Shit" Jeff scrubbed a hand over his face, running it up into his hair "I'm sorry, bro. I didn't mean 'ta scare you like that. I just got caught in this nightmare…Raven was there…he was takin' me all over again. I couldn't…I jus' couldn't do it again…"

Jay ran his hand up his friend's back, trailing the digits along his shoulder blades.

Jeff brought his knee up, resting his forehead on top of it, "I don' think I can do this anymore."

"You're doing great, Jeffy, we all are" Jay half-lied, knowing the pain that lay in his own heart "You have every right to freak out, no one would blame you. But you're so strong…you can take this."

Jeff turned his head, looking to his best friend with a crestfallen expression, "When will it get better?"

Jay could only think of one answer.

"With time."

**xXx**

Just outside in the backyard, Morrison was standing in front of a wooden crate. He looked down at the object, trying to brace his body for what he was about to do. He was going to try one of the most basic moves of parkour (his work out of choice), the one that helped him do his in-ring stunts. He turned his back to it, taking a dozen paces or so to give him so running distance.

John turned with a flourish, pretending he had an audience other than the dogs. He raised his chin, feeling the warmth flowing through his muscles from his light stretching earlier. He was ready for this, he knew he was. He was in sweats, one of Jeff's old paint-stained t-shirts, and no shoes. This was how he dressed for a work-out, and he was going to try and get one.

John took a step forward, wincing as he felt the pull of his kind-of healed wound. Maybe he had pulled the stitches out a little too early, but they had seemed to be healing nicely.

Deciding to forgo all caution, John took it at a full run. He kept his form nice, ignoring the discomfort he felt. He summoned up his old grace and went for the forward monkey jump, where his hands braced on the side of the crate and he vaulted his legs in front of him.

It didn't go according to plan.

John reached out, bracing his palms like he was supposed to. But the moment they held his full weight, his arms shook violently under a sharp wave of pain and collapsed. He cried out, going sideways and jolting his side along the edge. He rolled to the ground in a heap, ending up face-down in the grass. He gasped and groaned, arms instinctively going around his stomach.

John struggled to get to his knees, still bent over as he used them to sit up a bit. His hair fell past his face like a raven curtain, hiding his pained features as he tried to find the source of his agony. He slid a hand under his shirt, feeling along the line of his wound. Some spots had re-opened, blood oozing like molasses down his hip and soaking into the line of his pants. A spot on his chest was pretty bad, and he could feel the slick of his essence along his neck.

"Damn it" John rasped, gasping roughly as he tried to recover from the hard fall "Fucking…damn it!"

"_I want ya 'ta scream for all you think you're worth, boy."_

He raked back his hair, rolling onto his back. The cool grass did nothing to quell his building rage, the pure hurricane of hurt and pain swirling madly in his chest. He caught his breath, teeth grit hard against the pain. He managed to roll over again, getting to his feet. His knees trembled, but he kept his footing. He gave a shout of frustration, storming back toward the house.

"_That's it, beautiful…just breathe deep"_

John got to the steps when he spotted a metal baseball bat laying in the yard. It was one of those sturdy ones, the expensive ones that guaranteed to last a lifetime. A shadow passed over his face, and he didn't think twice about picking up the bat and getting a good grip on it.

Ignoring the little dark spots blooming along the planes of his clothes, he drew it back and swung for all he was worth. He struck a weak spot in the railing, making the board give way beneath his muscle power. It felt good, maybe even too good, to be destroying something.

"_Kinda tight for a whore" _

John dragged the bat behind him, drawing back halfway up and striking again. The wood splintered, but didn't give this time. He continued to storm up the steps, a determinedly pissed-off expression on his face.

Morrison turned his rage to the items on the porch, the objects that were much more susceptible to his wrath. He swung true, striking downward and collapsing a chair. With a strong upswing, he cracked and flipped over the table from underneath. One chair skidded across the deck under the bat, the last of them had it's legs bend down underneath it.

"_Michaels is damn lucky to have you sucking his dick every night, boy" _

"Fucking bastard!" John had tears streaming down his face, he couldn't stop them even if he wanted to. He kept swinging, taking out the bottom of the table. His knees gave out beneath him, but he kept swinging. Each stroke was weaker than the last, a sob racking his body.

"Sick…bastard" John panted, hanging his head and letting the bat go limp upon the deck. His shoulders were shaking, though he tried desperately to suppress his sobs. He was shivering, even with the sun warming his body. It was from the memory of that man's touch, the way he had violated him, humiliated him, and tried to ruin his life.

John's trembling fingers came up to his face, tracing the barely healed wound there on his cheek.

/That disgusting son-of-a-bitch…/

"May he rot in Hell" he finished aloud, dropping his hand weakly.

Soft hands fell on his biceps, warmth pressing along his back. He was about to lash out, but a cheek laid along the side of his neck and he knew he was okay. A tail curled around him, touching his thigh.

"Codes" John tried to laugh his state off, wiping at his eyes to get ride of the tears "What are you doing out here? Shouldn't you be upstairs with Randy?"

"I heard you down here" Cody replied, his soft feline ears twitching against the older man's extremely soft hair "I wanted to come see if you were alright."

"I'm fine, cat-boy" John needled playfully, his small sniffle giving away his pain "I'm just…I just wanted to…you know…"

Cody cast his eyes around the deck, "Redecorating?"

John winced at this, "Yeah…I didn't really think of…I shouldn't have…"

"I think Jeff will understand" Cody whispered in his ear, nuzzling him in a cattish way "If you need to talk…we're all here…"

John let the bat go, tilting his head up toward the sunlight. It warmed his face, drying the remnents of his tears. The anger had faded for now, the hurt just a dull ache in his chest.

"I think I'll be okay" John admitted "You know…someday."

Cody's smile was sad, "Yeah…someday."

**xXxXxXx**

Evan looked into the bathroom mirror, glad to see the fever flush gone from this face. He had thrown on a wife beater, showing off the fit muscles of his arms. He flexed, grinning at himself with the show of strength. He was pretty strong for a man his size, he should've known his body could fight this off. Even with that freak out earlier, he was doing good in his progress.

That was a slip, a minor set-back. He'd just forgotten himself, forgotten his grip on reality. He was smart enough to know that it wasn't the last time, but he hoped it wouldn't be so bad next time.

Evan caught sight of azure eyes in the reflection, he whipped around and faced the intruder.

Chris stood there in the doorway, arms folded across his chest with a lazy smirk curling his lips. He looked satisfied, just looking him over from his advantageous position.

"Master?" Evan breathed, hardly daring to believe it.

"Hey precious" Chris pushed off the doorway, walking into the bathroom. He didn't get three steps before his lovely bundle of sub jumped into his arms, raining kisses down upon his cheeks and lips. He grasped his high flyer tightly, returning the kisses as best he could

"Don't you ever leave me again" Evan stated during wet kisses, still smiling widely to have the man he loved holding him again.

"I'll try not to" Chris laughed, nuzzling the angel in his arms "You don't know how good it is to see you again. How are you feeling?"

"So much better" Evan sighed, stepping back to look the older man in the face "It's over…isn't it?"

"Yeah" Chris assured him, glad to give his pet the assurance that his attacker was dead "I took care of him myself."

Evan curled his hands in the blonde's shirt, "Can we go home now?"

"You actually _want_ to go back there?" Chris was skeptical about this idea "I could buy us another house if you want, sweetling."

"Of course not" Evan's answer was innocent, but he knew what his master meant and appreciated the gesture "That place is our home. No one, especially that bastard, is going to ruin it for us. There are more happy memories there than bad ones."

"You're right" Chris cupped his face, thumbing the fine curve of the ravenette's cheekbone "As soon as everyone's here, Master 'Taker will want to talk to us. Then we'll go home, okay?"

Evan nodded eagerly, almost panting like a puppy to go home with his master and have everything back to normal. At least, as normal as they could manage.

**xXx**

"Good boy, Hero" Jake scrubbed his hands over the golden retriever that had ground rather fond of him, another of the Hardy's rescue dogs. For a big guy, he seemed rather tender hearted when he was loving on the beautiful dog. He got down in the grass with Hero, stains already on his jeans from their earlier play. His light green t-shirt clung to his chest, showing off his muscles as they danced beneath the cloth from the wrestling match that started between man and beast.

They growled at one another, all in good fun as they flipped one another around on the ground. Both were loud, so boisterous and rowdy that they didn't see or hear the man approach them from the porch. A simple ivory, flowy shirt rippled around his toned physique. He was smiling at the scene, glad to see his sub enjoying himself.

Miz stopped in front of the two, unable to stop his laugh at the sight of Jake dodging love-licks from the dog. The blonde looked up just then, jaw dropping in surprise. Hero gave a little whine as he was ignored for the man, Jake getting up on his knees and turning to face him.

"Mikey" the blonde sounded so relieved, so happy.

"Well?" Miz raised an eyebrow at him "Aren't you going to welcome me back properly, Jake-love?"

Jake grabbed him around the waist, hugging him tight from the ground. Mike cupped the back of his sub's neck, returning the embrace in his own way. The blonde buried his face in his master's stomach, breathing a sigh of relief to see him safe and here with him again.

Too passionate a couple to stop there, Jake pulled at his pants playfully. Miz laughed, swaying where he stood, soon toppling over with a laugh on top of the blonde. They rolled around, Hero watching them curiously as they nuzzled and caressed blindly.

Miz lay atop his larger lover, pinning him down by straddling his thighs and resting his elbows in the grass on either side of his wide shoulders. He brushed their noses, Jake scrunched up his face in protest and shook his head. He got a kiss for this, both smiling too much for it to be very proper.

"I love you, Master" Jake whispered, suddenly very serious "You know that, don't you?"

"Very much so" Miz stared into the eyes he loved so much, looking so young "And I love you."

"Good" was all Jake said before he leant up and stole a kiss, a _real_ kiss. Mike hesitated only a moment, then responded gladly to the pleasure so long denied to him. He kissed him back with all the fervor he had built up over the past couple of weeks.

With the sun warming them, the lovers indulged themselves in some alone time.

* * *

**GO CHECK OUT CHAPTER 32, I WROTE IN ANOTHER SCENE WITH EVAN FLIPPING THE HELL OUT!**

**Okay, guys, I'm giving in. I'm officially looking for a Beta for all my stories (including ones I've already posted.) I need help, I just do *le sigh* I need someone dedicated, someone who will help me get rid of stupid mistakes like mixing up 'hear' and 'here' or anything else stupid. If anyone's up to the task, I beg you to PM me.**

**Love and Rockets,  
Emono**


	34. Chapter 34

Jay swayed slowly back and forth, keeping the swing going by the flex of his ankles. He rubbed at his left pec, his heart felt like lead in his rib cage. He'd left Jeff to his current painting, putting him right back on the porch. The momentary distraction hadn't been enough, his worry for Adam had doubled. He couldn't get through to either Shawn nor Adam's cell, apparently they didn't have service.

Or their phones had been destroyed.

Jay winced away from the idea, refusing to believe it.

That familiar crunching echo came to him like a hesitant rain, a little bit at a time. He sat up straighter, squinting down the line of the driveway and finding a car coming up it. His hopes were dashed rather quickly, he recognized the make of the car that Matt had taken and left at the airport when they'd left.

It stopped in front of the house, lingering for a moment before the two men got out.

Matt had a hat atop his head, hair spilling free down his back. He didn't look the least bit disturbed by what he'd had to do, in fact - he looked eager to see his brother. Mark had that same solemn look on his face that he always did.

Jay stayed on the porch swing, not bothering to get up as they approached. He didn't feel up to much conversation, but they had other ideas. They both stopped on the porch, looking to him. For a moment, he wanted to ignore them completely, but that wasn't how things worked.

"Jay…" Matt started out, the blonde looked so defeated that he wasn't sure what to say "Do you know where Jeff is?"

/Where the fuck do you think he is? We're here! We're all here! We've all been left here to rot while the rest of you go out and have your manly revenge!/

Jay wanted to shout this, but he knew he couldn't.

"Jeff and Phil are both up in big guest room" Jay replied evenly "He's changing his bandages."

Matt nodded, deciding to leave the man with his thoughts. He walked into the house, leaving the two of them behind. Undertaker lingered on the porch, venom green eyes looking to the blonde.

Jay bowed his head, refusing to look to his Head Master. He jumped when a hand fell on the back of his neck, then froze like cat who's tail had been gripped tight.

"Jason…"

Jay couldn't reply, he was afraid he'd break down right there in front of the older man.

"Has something happened to Adam?"

"I-I think so" Jay admitted, but decided to lie "But I'm sure he's fine. Phil's been waiting on you."

Knowing there wasn't much he could do to comfort the sub, Mark left him to his thoughts.

Jay leaned back against the swing, sighing out his frustration as he once again tried to search his heart for answers.

If Adam was dead…surely he would know? Right? …right?

**xXx**

Jeff pressed down the last of the medical tape, glad that the burns were fairing nicely. Phil threw him a small smile over his shoulder, grateful for the treatment when he himself couldn't do it.

"Feelin' any better?" Jeff inquired, making sure the bandage was in place all over "Need some more pills?"

"No, I'm good" Punk rolled his neck, smiling in relief when there wasn't a large pang of hurt to go along with the movement "Thanks for this."

"No problem, bro" Jeff gave a lazy smile, going to pat the other on the back but stopping himself.

Phil cast a brief glance over his shoulder, "I heard you earlier. I know you're not okay, but…"

"I'm fine" the older man drawled, scooting back on the bed. He braced himself on his palms, rolling his neck as well. There was a stiffness there, but nothing he couldn't handle.

"You were screaming, Jeff."

"I got caught in a nightmare" Jeff's eyes fluttered open, they resembled glazed marbles "That's all."

Punk let his eyes fall to his friend's arms, then turned to face the wall, "You sure did a number on your arms."

Jeff crinkled his nose, looking down at the claw marks on his forearms that came from his own nails, "Yeah, it was pretty bad."

There was a lapse in conversation, but Jeff broke it with an amused snort of laughter.

" 's no better than the big hole in my upstairs winda'."

"Yeah, Ev did that earlier" Punk tisked "Sweet kid, but Styles messed him up. He thought he heard the man talking to him."

Jeff gave a low whistle, "Damn. That sucks. Did you see the demolition job JoMo did on my backyard, though?"

Punk's olive eyes went wide, he turned halfway to give the other a proper look, "What did he do?"

"Smashed up my deck furniture, took out the railing" Jeff shrugged "It's gonna cost me a pretty penny to get that fixed."

"A few ugly ones too" Phil jested light-heartedly.

Jeff opened his mouth to say some joke, just to keep the mood light, when the door opened. Both whipped their heads around to look, eyes widening when two other men were revealed in the doorway. It was none other than their masters, home after the jobs they'd had to perform. Matt stepped in first, a smile curving his full lips.

"Jeffy."

"Matty" Jeff breathed, scrambling off the bed and launching himself into his master's arms. Matt groaned in relief when he had his younger brother enfolded in his arms, holding him as tight as he dared. Their momentum turned them, enough so the darker Hardy could see the Head Master nod at him.

"Come on, baby bro" Matt kept his arm around the younger man's waist, guiding him out of the room. Jeff was about to protest, but took one look at Undertaker and ducked his head. He was led out, the door shutting behind the brothers.

Phil was staring wide-eyed at his master, he almost couldn't believe that after all this time - Mark was standing before him. And getting closer, with light thud of his boots. He stopped by the bed, sitting down with all the grace of a cougar.

"If you were expecting me to run and jump into your arms…" Punk's voice was full of sarcasm, but mostly he was just full of nerves.

Mark's large hand came up, curling his fingers along the back of his sub's neck. Punk leaned into the touch, olive eyes shining with unshed tears. He wouldn't let them fall, he'd let enough fall all alone up here. He'd contemplated so many horrible things up here in his bed, ranging from dragging a knife across his wrists to running away and taking a car off a cliff. Horrible, twisted things that all rooted back to Kane. He'd always loved life, he'd never once thought about robbing himself of it.

Until he was taken and broken.

But in a few hushed conversations with Jeff, he'd shaken off those urges.

Mark looked him over silently, lips turning up - half in relief, half in joy.

"My prince…" came the deep murmur, the bigger man leaning in.

There was just a moment where Phil wanted to punch him, to scream and launch himself off the bed. It was just a brief moment, one where he wanted to run at full speed right out of the house and into the forest that lay just beyond the Hardy's land. But it went away as fast as it came, replaced by his love for his master.

Phil's eyes fluttered shut, tilting his head and accepting the kiss from the much larger man. It was smooth, brief, but it sent tingles through his body. He found himself brought into the older man's body, encased in a firm hug. With a sigh, he pushed his master onto the bed and slowly crawled on top of him. Mark accepted his pet in his arms once more, feeling the full warm length of his body against his own.

"Took you long enough" Phil murmured into his collar bone, smiling when his master's fingers danced over his small 'Undertaker' tattoo that physically marked his ownership.

Mark closed his eyes, a little breathless sound of amusement escaping his lips.

An image of Cody flashed through Phil's mind.

"Master?"

"Yes, my boy?""Where's my collar at?" Punk inquired in a whisper.

"Hmm" Mark's brow creased briefly, then relaxed as he remembered "It's in my dresser, in the bedroom."

Phil couldn't believe how much that relieved him, "When we go home…can I…"

Mark knew what his pet wanted before he could voice it, "You can wear it as long as you want."

That settled something primal inside of the ravenette, "…thank you."

**xXx**

Jeff stayed in the shadow of the hallway, watching his brother finger the crater left in their second story full-length window. He didn't look mad, just curious.

"Evan had a little…" Jeff chose his words carefully "Fit."

"I can see" Matt slid his eyes over to his brother, who shivered under the gaze "Is he okay?"

"He's fine."

"Good" Matt held out his hand "Come 'ere, Skittles. Let me get a look at you."

Jeff took a deep, almost shaky breath, then obeyed. He stepped into the light, trying not to wince when the rays fell over his face. He kept going until he was standing beside his brother, raising his chin a bit to hide his fear. The older man let his fingers lace through his brother's hair, taking in the short hair and the sea-foam color he had dyed it just recently (some of the color was still splashed faintly across his ears and neck.)

"Look at that" Matt's lips turned in a pleased smile "It fits you, darlin'. Looks good. Better than last time you cut it."

"Really?" Jeff inquired, resisting the urge to run his hands through it again.

"Well, yeah" Matt assured him, smile fading when he glanced down at his brother's arms "Now those…those don't suit you 'atall."

Jeff lifted his forearm, gazing down at the deep scratches with the eyes of Eve looking at the core of the serpent's apple. Matt slowly curled his fingers around his brother's wrist, raising his arm up until he could kiss one of the lesser scratches.

"What happened?"

"I had a nightmare, about Raven" Jeff admitted, his drawl low "But…it wasn't what I thought it woulda been. It was about him…but he had _you_ pinned down, Matty, not me. He was whippin' you within an inch of yer life, and I had to watch. I couldn't move, I could just scream. And when you were…when you stopped movin'…he moved on to me…"

"Hey, darlin', don't cry" Matt brought his brother into his arms, nuzzling his short tresses with his nose "Shh, baby darlin', don't cry."

" 'M not" Jeff muttered the lie, his eyes wet with the evidence. He buried his face in his brother's thick shoulder, body slowly relaxing as he released more of his tension.

" 'ahm so fuckin' glad yer back" Jeff drawled thickly, trying to melt through their bodies to merge as one. That's what they were, in a way. Bonded by blood, by flesh, by family, by love. They didn't care who thought it was wrong, it was what they felt. Their father had learned to tolerate their relationship without actually knowing all of it, and that was enough to keep their family alive.

Matt's hand crept up his lover back, beneath the shirt to feel the flash there, "You're healing."

Jeff actually laughed, "Yeah…I am, aren't I?"

**xXxXxXx**

Randy had gotten up to get something to drink, but when he got back to the guest room he couldn't find his baby. He looked around, just in case Cody was hiding, then realized where he must've gone. He left the small room, going down the hall to the largest guest room the Hardys had to offer. He saw the door was cracked, his lips quirked dangerously as he reached for it and pushed it open.

There inside was John and Ted on the bed, Cody as well now. John was on the far left, propped up on his side and relaxing into the pillows. He looked years younger than he had when they were digging Batista's grave together, but he imagined his face was about the same. Ted was on his right, he had stripped off his bulky hoody in favor of a thin t-shirt. There were still some bandages on the worst of his injuries, but the marks that had healed were still bright against his skin. He was half-curled with Cody, his lips on the younger man's forehead. They both had dark circles under their eyes, like they hadn't slept even though Randy had heard that they'd done nothing but stay up hidden in the bedroom they'd claimed together.

Cody looked exhausted, letting his arms curl around Ted's sides.

"Sweetness" Randy purred, walking into the room.

Cody suddenly jerked from his doze, sitting up with wide eyes.

"Master, I was just…" Cody couldn't find an excuse, his brow creasing as his frustration grew. The older man held out his hand, stopping his protests.

Randy cocked his head, thinking how to handle this. Then he caught sight of Ted, who shared that same haunted look in his eyes that his own sub did. They were kindred spirits, in more than genetics. It seemed Ted and Cody shared a bond that he couldn't touch, though his own bond with his boy was stronger and different…this one was one he couldn't deny.

"I just wanted to see Teddy" Cody admitted, ears lying flat against his head.

John cracked open an eye, giving his best friend that infamous dimpled smile, "Wanna join us, man?"

Ted and Cody both perked up at this, hoping they'd be able to stay together a bit longer.

Taking a few moments to think it over, Randy shrugged decisively before walking over to the bed. The bed was large enough for all four of them, the Viper claiming the place at the far right of the bed and on the free side of his lover. Cody hummed and pressed back into his lover's body automatically, back to chest with him while his front still faced his best friend.

The boys reached out and laced their hands together, settling comfortably against their masters. Their eyes drifted shut, and only minutes later content purrs echoed throughout the room. John and Randy caught each other's gaze over the bodies of their boys, smiles slowly curling their lips.

In unison, they let their hands drift along their own boy's body. Settling on their hips, they couldn't help but chuckle softly when two tails flicked at the caresses.

"They're beautiful" John whispered.

Randy nodded his agreement, "They are…aren't they?"

Smiles appeared on the kittens faces, but they said nothing and pretended to sleep.

**xXxXxXx**

On the porch, Jay was starting to fall asleep as evening began to fall. The sleeping schedule in the house had been hectic at best, they all seemed to be so tired all the time that it wasn't uncommon to see Evan dozing on the couch at noon or Jake stretched out in the grass in the backyard taking a nap early in the morning (as he was probably doing now, only with his master.) The blonde's head slowly dropped forward, dipping briefly before he raised it again. Tilt, dip, straighten up. This dance went on for some time, eyes fluttering open and shut so often he looked like he was trying to rid dust from his eyes. He yawned every so often, his heart still aching deep inside his chest.

He was just starting to fall asleep again when the crunch of gravel assaulted his ears. His nose scrunched up, murmuring a protest to the noise as he tried to drift off into a land where only Queen Mab could plague him. He was drifting off again when the sharp slams of car doors broke his stupor, alerting him that he wasn't alone anymore.

Jay sprang to his feet, breath coming fast when his vision cleared and he saw Shawn emerging from the driving side. He looked tired, and he opened the back side door as well. A faint groan reached his ears, and he had no idea what to expect.

"Please" Jay murmured, not sure what he was praying for or to who "_Please_."

A man emerged from the back, a spill of blonde hair telling him it was his brother.

"Adam!" Jay bellowed, taking to a run down the length of the porch. He turned sharply, feet almost fumbling on the steps but he managed not to hurt himself. His brother was slowly walking away from the car, cradling his head like it pained him. He had butterfly stitches across his brow, beneath them a cut of crimson stretched across his skin. He looked up at his brother's call, surprised at the speed and urgency his sub was at.

"Jay?"

"Adam!" Jay skidded on the gravel, doubling over far enough to have his palms brush the ground before he straightened up and kept running. He dove into Adam's strong arms, burying his face into his broad chest. His first few breaths were nothing but the older man's scent, bringing forth the tears.

"You bastard! I thought you were dead!" Jay struck out at his brother, the other blocked the blows as best he could "I thought they'd gotten you! You fucking bastard, how could you do this to me?"

"Jay! Calm down!" Adam begged, his younger brother was strong.

"No, fuck you!" Jay spat, getting a good blow in. The older man lost his breath, exhaling sharply when the gut shot connected. He seized the man's wrists again, though this time his grip was like a vice.

"Bastard" Jay pushed at him, held close to the other's body "I believed you were dead. And I didn't know what to do with myself, or what I'd do if you were gone, or if I'd even breathe anymore."

Adam got back his breath, holding his lover close as he ranted and pushed at his shoulders in a weak attempt to get away.

"Do you know how fucking awful I would've felt if the last thing I ever said to you was not to die? That the last time we fucked was right before I let that beast get the best of me?" Jay was half-sobbing as he yelled, sounding like a wounded animal "What would I have told mom? That you died trying to kill the bastard who raped me? Why would you put me through this?"

Jay kept screaming at his brother, his knees giving out. Dirt billowed around their heavy bodies as they both went down in the gravel, Adam clinging to his hysterical brother. He knew he'd have bruises in the morning from the blows, but he couldn't care less when he could taste the pain emanating from his loved one.

"Jason, listen to me" Adam clung tight to him as he went limp, heart breaking "I'm fine, angel. I'm sorry you went through this…that you could think that I'd leave you…I'm so sorry."

Shawn carefully walked past the brothers, leaving them to their reconnection. His heartstrings plucked at the sight of the two men in so much pain, especially two men he cared dearly for. He went in search of his own love, hoping he wasn't nearly as upset as Jay was.

"Shh…angel, hush…"

"H-How could you scare me like th-at?"

The broken words would've made anyone want to comfort him.

**xXxXxXx**

Shawn stepped out onto the back porch, jaw dropping instantly from the wreckage he found. The railing was smashed in two places, the furniture was all destroyed, and it looked like no one had made the effort to try and clean it up. It looked like a windstorm had blown through.

Well, the windstorm was named John Morrison and said storm was now sitting on the stairs in the soft sunlight. He had on his sparkle-cross shades and was sipping iced tea through a straw, looking perfectly content. Shawn looked at his lovely pet, heart swelling with the fondness he felt for him. He loved this man so much, he had done the unspeakable for him.

"Are you going to stand there all day and look at me?" John tilted his head back, peeking at his master from above his shades "Or are you going to join me?"

"Can't pull the wool over yer eyes, sweetheart" Shawn walked over, taking the steps carefully. He settled on the one behind his sub, stretching his legs out on either side of him to straddle his back. John leaned back into him, straw slipping between his lips rather cutely.

"Whatcha lookin' at?" Shawn drawled, settling his hands hesitantly on his lover's biceps.

"Those two."

Shawn looked out to the yard, little crinkles of crow's feet appearing on the side of his eyes as he grinned widely. Jake had his big form stretched out in the grass, snoring away in dancing shade (the trees shifted with the breeze, casting playful shadows across the ground.) Miz was laid out beside him, arms folded beneath his head as he slept. His plain white fedora was laying on Jake's stomach, not a stain to be found on it's perfect lining. From their rumpled clothing, it looks like they'd partaken in some rather heavy petting.

He envied them, Jake had gotten out of this rather unsullied as well - not unscathed, but not as hurt as Morrison.

And wouldn't Miz throw a world-class fit when he saw Hero was chewing on the cream bandana that went under his hat?

Shawn peered closely at his sub, seeing that a spot of the cut on John's face was shiny.

"Shit, did you reopen it?" Shawn made a face, reaching up and letting his fingers trail across his lover's cheek.

"A few spots bled a little" John shrugged "It's no big deal."

"Of course it's a big deal!"

"Not really" John glared at the man over his shoulder "Keep your voice down."

Shawn gaped at the younger man, then realized something.

"You did this, didn't you?"

"Did what?" John asked innocently.

"All this" Shawn gestured to the destruction of the railing and the porch chairs "Did you smash this up?"

John crinkled his nose, "Now why would I do a thing like that?"

The almost-drawl and sarcasm wasn't lost on Shawn, it meant he was poking at something he shouldn't. Instead, he wrapped his arms around his lover and pulled him back into his chest. Morrison resisted only a moment, then relaxed into the touch.

He offered his tea, Shawn gladly took a sip.

"Can we go home?"

"Soon, sweetheart. I promise."


	35. Chapter 35

After they'd all gotten some rest and a bite to eat, they gathered in the living room at Master 'Taker's request. For once, in a silent agreement, the subs weren't at their masters feet. They were gathered like equal, as colleagues, as friends. As survivors.

Miz pushed his sub down into one of the plush chairs, taking his seat in the younger man's lap. He draped the blonde's arms around his waist, getting rather comfortable.

Across from them, Chris was in a chair that nearly matched theirs. Unable to be away from his master for very long before starting to twitch, Evan had crawled into the thick chair and onto his master's lap. Chris had wanted to protest for a moment, then he had a lapful of warm, happily mewling Evan and he couldn't protest. The ravenette had laid his head in the crook of his shoulder, knees on either side of his master's body. With a little sigh of secret delight, Chris caressed the back of his sub's head and let him settle comfortably against him.

Edge was sitting on one end of a couch, his arm along the back of it - and along his sub's shoulders. Jay sat beside him, eyes still red from his breakdown earlier. Jeff was on his other side, and Matt on the opposite end of the couch from his friend and fellow master. Jeff was offering silent comfort to his best friend, touching his arm and leg every so often.

The next caress to his arm earned him a smile from the Canadian, and a return touch.

Cena had found this large, plush beanbag chair laying around and had claimed it for his seat. Ted was half in his lap, half sharing the large leather chair. Ted had a cherry Blow-Pop between his plump lips, a little sweet treat that he'd snagged out of the Hardy pantry.

Randy was on the other couch, his love beside him. Cody looked rather anxious, he'd never sat _beside_ his master during one of these get-togethers, but only the little flicks of his tail gave away his nerves.

On the other end was Shawn, his sub sitting cross-legged beside him. A single butterfly bandage was across his cheek, right where he'd reopened his cut. That one little spot might scar, for the rest was already showing signs of fading.

Finally, in the largest chair, was Undertaker. Punk was perched on the chair arm quite carefully, he was positioned so he didn't strain his back. The minor bruises on his abdomen and limbs were nothing compared to the burns across his shoulders.

"We've all done horrible things this past few weeks" Mark started.

"No shit" Matt scoffed.

Mark's eyes slid over to his darkest, "Some worse than others."

Matt had the decency to incline his head, but say nothing.

"What are we gonna do, Mark?" Shawn asked, sitting forward in his seat and clasping his hands like he was praying "We just…_offed_ some main cards. Vince is going to have our asses for this."

"If he figures out it was us" Miz pointed out.

"I think you mean _when_" Edge's nose twitched "As much as we like to rag on the old man, he knows a lot. He knows…well, everything."

Mark nodded slowly, "Vince is sharp, we should know this by now. I've already had him call me, and I've scheduled a meeting in two days to confront him about what's happened and what he's planning on doing to keep the business alive. It will be difficult, and we'll all end up working our asses off. I'm not going to lie about that. Each of us will be doing the work of two people."

Randy opened his mouth, but the older man beat him to it.

"_Yes_, Randall, we'll be going back to work right away."

Again, the Viper opened his mouth to snarl a protest, but was cut off.

"If you didn't want to work so hard, you should've thought twice about killing the boss's son-in-law."

Randy snapped his mouth shut, his sub touched his arm in a form of apology. Randy replied with a firm caress to the back of his neck, showing that it wasn't that big of a deal. Hunter's murder was worth going to a massage therapist a few times a month. His muscles were already aching with the work he'd be putting

them through.

"And the boys?" Chris asked, absently running his hand along Evan's back "What are we going to do about them?"

"I think you boys should take some time off" Mark replied, looking around at his battered but still handsome sub-court.

Jay, with his long legs and sharp tongue. Ted, blonde and full-mouthed, yet more able to deal with all of this mess than even he himself could've. The huggable angel that was Evan, his burnt umber eyes full of intelligence much beyond his years. Morrison, once a glitter-doll, now a young man with the problem of overcoming vanity for sanity. His stalwart, solid Jake who had gotten away with only a near-death experience to haunt him…that, and the potential for what could've been. The ever-colorful Jeff, a man now with his love for his brother stronger than ever, tested and true. Young, pretty Cody…who had a curse laid upon him that only women suffered from.

And his own Phil, his prince, who would forever be scarred by what he was put through. Cracked, but not broken. In a moment of affection, he reached out and took the ravenette's hand and brought it to his lips. Olive eyes went wide at this, but the smile that curved his pierced lips showed his pleasure.

"I will personally make sure you boys have all the time off you need" Mark turned to look at his court once more "But as for us-" and by that he meant the masters "-we'll need to work. You can travel with us, if it will please you. Or you can stay at your own respective homes."

"I'll go back right away, Master 'Taker" Jake said without thinking. Mike's eyes widened, he reached back and laid two fingers over his lover's mouth. They were both staring at the Head Master, afraid the blonde had broken protocol.

Mark only smiled gently at his youngest master, "I hope so. I'm going to be relying quite heavily on you, Jacob. You too, Michael."

They both nodded, Jake dropping his eyes and Miz giving a little smile of relief.

Cena decided it was his turn to speak up, "When can we go home?"

Ted's ears suddenly perked up, twitching for a moment as hope filled his heart.

A heavy sigh rolled over the Deadman's lips, "I assume you mean when you can go home and stay with your boys?"

Most nodded.

"Then it will be some time."

An instant rumble of displeasure broke the solemn air, each protesting loudly.

"Enough!" Mark barked after only a minute of it, standing up. They silenced, staring at their leader with wide eyes.

"Don't you realize the severity of the situation?" Mark spat "Don't you realize what we've done? What we're going to have to do to repent for it?"

Glances were exchanged, heads lowered from the scolding.

"Bret's career died after what he did, it ate whatever was inside of him that made him great" Mark had never said this before, but he knew he couldn't keep it inside anymore "What he did destroyed him. Taking a life…is not something to be taken lightly. With our adrenaline and pain still so fresh, it may seem like the best thing to do. But we acted in haste…"

Mark shut his eyes briefly, "And I'm not excluding myself."

The strength returned to his voice, "What what we did will come back to haunt us. Not just once, but for the rest of our lives. Sometimes it'll be so bad we can taste their blood…other times it won't be more than a faint biting at our hearts. It can tear us apart, hollow us out…but only if we let it. We have to be strong, we have to accept what we've done and _repent._"

Realization was dawning on their faces, they could see the logic of their leader's words.

"Every injury, every pulled muscle, every torn ligament, every drop of blood you spill now until Judgment day will be your punishment for the life you took" Mark walked to the middle of the room, slowly turning to look into each of his sub-master's faces "This is not an easy matter. We've chosen the hardest path, my friends. The one less traveled, but the one more satisfying. I don't regret what we did, and neither should you. We should be proud, what we did takes more courage than a hundred men."

Mark gestured with his hand, a shadow passing over his face, "But we must be willing to accept the consequences. I am…are you? That's the true question here. Are you men ready to face what you've done? Look it square in the eye and shake it's hand? Can you bear the pain?"

All was still in the room.

Cena was the first to move, wrapping an arm around his sub's waist and bringing him into his lap. Ted let him, offering his neck so his master could bury his face there. The blonde stroked the older man's own neck, his shoulders, soothing the much bigger man.

Jeff laid his hand along his brother's thigh, brow knit.. Matt was staring at nothing in particular, but he did let his hand shadow the other's on his leg.

Jake tightened his arms around his master's waist, nuzzling his shoulder blade.

Jay glanced at his master at almost the same time Evan did, both had curious expressions on their faces. Jay's eyes went to the young blonde kitten, Ted had his cheek resting on top of his master's head. Their gazes locked, he seemed unmoved by this realization. He had come to it long ago, so had the older blonde. Most of the subs, who had much more time to think everything over, had realized the severity of their situation. They'd come to accept the consequences.

Cody's reaction was much different than the others. His pain had been greater than anyone here. He would never said it aloud, but everyone here knew it to be the truth. He'd lost a child, a small life inside his body that he hadn't even known about. He'd gotten into the ring with a murderer and had been backed up into a corner…struck, punctured from the inside, and had lost a precious boy.

What he'd wanted to give Randy for so long, what he thought was unattainable…lost in just a few hours.

Cody smirked, and he swallowed down a bout of laughter. Hunter had died for what he'd done, and his children would never really remember their father. In a way, that saddened him. But mostly it pleased him. His little life for that of a grown man who had seen forty good years…enjoyed riches and title reigns and children, enjoyed his wife and his power. Enjoyed harassing Randy at every instant, making the Court's life difficult, making his own life hell.

Cody had no sympathy, and he'd done enough repenting to last a lifetime.

Now, he knew, only good would happen for him.

Cena tilted his head, keeping his eyes clenched shut as he growled out, "Isn't having our boys suffer at the hands of men we despised enough to appease God?"

Mark tilted his head, his tone soft and full of empathy, "No."

"Figures" John muttered, never once opening his eyes.

"I don't know if I speak for everyone here…" Edge began "But I think we all realize what we did was pretty…not bad, but…"

"Unethical" Randy said after a long moments pause.

"Two wrongs don't make a right" Chris huffed "We know that. And I'm ready to accept responsibility for what I've done."

Slowly, everyone gaze little nods of consent.

Yes, they were ready to accept the consequences for their actions.

"Alright, then" Mark's voice didn't waver, not once "Who wants to attend the meeting with Vince?"

As hesitant as the nods were, hands rose.

**xXxXxXx**

_Two days later…_

Vince wasn't a nervous man by nature. He'd always considered himself cool-headed. Maybe not easy-going, or soft-spoken, but not unreasonable. He sat at his desk, tapping his pen against the surface at a rapid beat. The vein in his temple was pulsing, he was flushed, and beads of sweat had broken out along his hairline…but he hadn't said a word yet.

He wasn't calm, but he wasn't ready to explode.

Not yet.

Mark Calaway sat in front of his desk, one mighty leg cross at the knee over the other. He was relaxed into his chair, a touch of kohl around his predatory eyes. But he wasn't alone, he had his faction around him. Adam Copeland, Shawn, Cena, the young Orton, Jericho, the Miz brat, and the older Hardy. All were main cards…except for young Mizanin, who looked like a man for all to see here today. He wasn't wearing one of his stylish hats with the silly bandanas underneath. He was clad in a white dress shirt and a dark vest, a light tie loosely knotted at his throat.

Yes, he was young man among legends. He had the potential to join them in their status, but now wasn't the time for that.

Or was it?

"Are you telling me…" Vince began slowly "That all these men are dead?"

"Yes, sir" Mark nodded "That's what I'm telling you."

"And how, exactly…" he growled, grabbing his pen in both hands "Did they become…_dead_?"

"Through their own devices" Edge assured him, lips quirked.

"You keep yer smart mouth outta this, Copeland!" Vince snapped, words as sharp as a dagger.

There was a pause where Vince's breath became ragged, but he quickly smoothed himself out.

"Styles, Angle, and Levy…" the old man started, teeth grit so tight it shot pain through his jowls "Do you know what that means, Mark?"

The Deadman merely blinked at his boss, not saying a word.

"It means I have to talk business with that harpy Dixie Carter!" Vince barked, standing up and pointing accusingly at Mark "Do you know what the hell yer makin' me do here, Calaway? Foley, Jarrett…and that bloated ass of a man Eric Bischoff! I should make _you_ do it!"

Mark's eyes widened, "Sir…"

"Gah!" Vince spat, nearly pulling his hair out "I hate that bastard brand! You know I do! You know I hate haggling with them! And they're gonna demand heads for what little you stole from them, you know that! They're gonna want blood money and good wrestlers, damn it! I'm gonna have to trade off God knows who just to shut Jarrett up! And the _money_!"

Vince snapped his pen, tossing aside the plastic and ink. He was panting like a wild boar, obviously Mark had overestimated the situation.

"Dave and Hunter, sir…"

"Oh, Cena can do three times the work that prissy Batista could ever do" Vince waved that off "And Hunter's not much different. Always was a bloodsucker. Kozlov is nothing, and no one knows Layfield was planning on coming back. And Jacobs…well, Mark, I expect you to do the work of you and your brother."

Mark's lips curled up in a wicked grin, "Yes, sir."

The Court tried not to snicker, everyone knew that Mark never called anyone he respected 'sir.' It was always their first, full names he used as a sign of reverence.

Vince plopped down in his chair, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief from his breast pocket. He pursed his lips, looking about at the others.

"Where are…" Vince didn't really know what to call them "The other set?"

"Home, safe" Mark nodded to the folder he'd sat down on the older man's desk at the start of the meeting "If you'll just look through that right there…"

And Vince did, and he was horrified. It was a folder full of the boys' wounds when they'd gotten to the hospital. At their worst, made as vivid as possible. There were some charts in there that Vince glanced over and knew, sighting Bourne's high fever and Jake's coma-like state for a few days. The extent of the damage was shown to him, and Mark knew he couldn't have gained anymore sympathy if Vince had been there himself.

After a few minutes of looking, and another minute to collect himself, Vince cleared his throat.

"I'll have to give them whatever they ask for" Vince stated "Carter and the rest. But I think I'll allow these boys to get their rest, and take their leave. Swagger, though-"

"He's coming back right away, Mr. McMahon" Mike interjected "He's eager to help you fill the spots that have been inconveniently emptied."

"I see" Vince sighed, tossing aside his kerchief "I also see that you've been through quite an ordeal lately. I see that some things have happened, some horrible things…and drastic measures were taken against the perpetrators. I expect I won't be having any cops knocking down my door for anymore than routine questions?"

Vince lowered his eyes, then brought them onto Calaway's face, "Well?"

"No, sir."

"Hmph" Vince huffed, crinkling up his nose "Well, alright then. I'm gonna get a hold of Flair and Hogan, see what they're up to. Maybe they'd like to go over to-" he almost spat "-_TNA_ and beat their drum for a while. Maybe get a hold of Foley, he'd be sympathetic to your cause. He's a decent man, and _you've_ always been close to him."

'Taker inclined his head, "Close enough."

"Mmm" Vince folded his hands together, brow drawn as he thought of how he could fix this "You realize I'm going to have to elevate some mid-cards because of this? Give them title runs and such. Not to mention cast my net in _FCW,_ see if I can find some talent there. There's some second-gen men I've been meaning to give a shot. And there's this guy in Scotland I've got my eye on…"

Vince trailed off, seemingly lost in his own thoughts. He then snapped back to the present, waving his hand.

"Nevermind, just you nevermind" he drawled "I'll figure it out on my own. As long as you work your well-paid-for asses off, then I don't much care if I have to haggle a bit."

Mark was surprised by this, "I'm glad to hear it. I'll take my leave, then. Let you do what you have to do."

The Court filed out, almost in their hierarchy order. Mark saw to it that they all left before him, then put his hand on the doorknob to shut the door after him.

" 'Taker."

At that specific name, he turned and raised an eyebrow to his boss. Vince was leaning on his desk, his cheek on his fist. He looked tired, but he also looked a little intrigued. In a nonchalant kind of way, like he was waiting to hear the results of a football game he'd bet no money on but was friend's with someone who had.

"Was it worth it?" he asked lowly "Did you find what you needed to in their blood?"

Mark's chuckle was dark, sending a shiver up the man's spine.

"Yes, sir. I believe we did."

"Well, good" Vince's mouth twitched " 'Cause I would've fired and escorted all those bastards to jail for causing what I saw in those pictures. Tell the boys to take all the time they need. I can afford it."

"You're too kind, Vince. Have I ever told you that?"

"I better hear it more often for what I'm paying you."


	36. Chapter 36

**This chapter is the second to last *shivers* You excited? I am. Let's wrap up all those loose ends, cause the action is all over at this point.**

**This chapter is set 7 months later of chapter 35, the first of two epilogues. The last chapter of this story will be set two years from chapter 35. Let's see how the boys are dealing with their trauma separately…each scene is a different pairing. The real epilogue will be them all together. **

**Dr. Melpomene…hmm, what can I say about her? She's my muse, and her last name is the name of the Greek muse of tragedy. Makes sense, ne? I thought so.**

* * *

_At 'Taker's Mansion…_

Punk awoke with a startled yelp, sitting straight up in bed. He reached over his shoulder, rubbing at his back where the burn mark was. The skin there was still dark red, but at least it was open anymore. The doctors had been good on that, giving him cream and pills to help his body along in the healing process. His skin was grimy with sweat, and he ached as if he had been tossing around all night.

Phil caught his breath, glancing over at the clock to see it was nearly three in the morning. He sighed, tilting his head back as he tried to banish the nightmare from his mind. His shadowy dreams had been full of chains, the ghost of alcohol still on his tongue.

That thought brought bile to his throat, he had to go get something to drink or else he'd be sick on the floor. He saw the hulking form of his master shift around, but the big man didn't seem to wake up. Phil smiled to himself, kissing his fingers before letting them rest on the dark curve of his master's shoulder.

It hadn't taken long before he'd taken Phil back into their bed. At first, his master understood his need to sleep alone, and had taken a guest bedroom for himself. Punk had felt horrible about it, but he wasn't sure he could sleep in the same bed as the man he'd betrayed. But after a while, he'd asked Mark to return - and his master had obliged. Every time he laid with him like _that_…it was if it were the first time, Mark took these opportunities to reclaim every inch of him for his own.

Punk managed to get out of the bed without disturbing the other man, wincing when the cold stone floor touched the bottoms of his bare feet. He crept out of the bedroom, barely making a sound. He made his way through the large house in the dark, knowing it like the back of his hand. The kitchen was bathed in the moonlight that flooded in from the window over the sink, the white tile glowing dully.

Punk cracked open the fridge, wincing at the bright light. The cool air washed over his skin, cooling the sweat that still lingered there. He was still a little shaken up from the dream, and a Pepsi sounded delicious right then. He fished one out of one of the drawers, cracked the seal with a satisfying twist, and let the little cap drop noisily to the floor. He put it to his lips, moaning as the first few pulls soothed his dry throat.

Funny, standing there in the dark except for the light of the fridge…a few months ago, he would've been terrified. There was a time where he couldn't stand the dark, and he'd slept with the TV on and the bathroom light shining all night long. But then he'd managed to turn off the bathroom light, and two months later he could turn the TV off. It was thanks to Dr. Melpomene, a therapist Mark had hired for any of the subs (or masters, respectively) to use. She was a kind woman, but he'd needed her in the beginning to get rid of the fears.

Despite his scar, he'd gotten back into the wrestling game. Vince needed all hands on board, and about a month ago he'd jumped back in. He mostly wore a shirt until creative could give him a good storyline to explain them. Mark had been wary about using the results of his attack as a WWE tool, but he told Vince he didn't mind. It had to be good for something, right?

He'd ended his line with Jeff, and instead was replaced with a rather epic feud with himself and his master. Mark had wanted to personally oversee his career for the next year or so, minimize his physical contact with anyone else, and Punk wasn't about to protest. Their TV feud had brought them together, sparking up the passion again. He was surrounded by his master's love, protected by it now that the threat was over.

The rumor that all who had harmed The Court's boys had been slaughtered, and no one messed with them anymore.

No one.

But sometimes…he sighed around the lip of the bottle. Sometimes he couldn't stand to be touched. Sometimes he threw epic fits, and smashed anything around him he thought he could get away with (and sometimes, even that didn't stop him.) But those times were getting few and far between, down to once this month instead of every other day.

There was a slight noise, and he was proud of himself for not instantly jumping and diving for the nearest knife. Without taking his mouth off the bottle, he tilted his head and let his eyes drift over to the doorway.

There, leaning against the doorframe, was his master. Mark had only his long pajama pants on, a wife beater stretched across the broad plane of his chest. His long raven hair spilled down his shoulders, looking his most handsome half-hidden in shadow with his bright eyes cutting through the darkness. He had this expression on his face, one of trepidation and sorrow.

"Did I wake you?" Phil whispered, trying to keep his tone light. He set his Pepsi down on the counter, half of it gone.

"I'm sorry" came the deep rumble of his lover. He still seemed sleepy, and in this way - vulnerable to some of his more human emotions.

His dark eyebrows shot up into his hairline, "For what?"

"For…" Mark began, wetting his lips "For not knowing what to do when Glenn hurt you."

You could've knocked Punk over with a feather. His mouth fell open, but he quickly swallowed down his pop before it spilled over his chin and chest. He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand, eyes still on the older man. He had no idea what the hell Mark was talking about. He'd done everything he could after he was attacked! He'd showered him with gifts, given him all his love and attention even when he was bone-tired. He would always come and tell him goodnight when they didn't sleep in the same bed, and would always make sure he was comfortable. He'd taken him to the doctor frequently, paid for everything right down to the few therapy bills.

"I've never been good at…comforting" Mark admitted, his words reluctant.

"Never been…?" Phil trailed off in a little laugh, as light as summer rain on glass "Mark, don't you ever think that."

"I can only show my love a certain way, Phillip" the older man's eyes fell to the side "You know how I am. I've tried to do my best. I hope it's been good enough."

Phil walked over, getting in his lover's personal space. He laid his hands on his chest, still cold from his Pepsi. He rested his forehead on the thick muscle, giving a weak hum of satisfaction when he felt a strong palm resting on the back of his neck.

"Your kind of love is enough" Phil murmured, smiling to himself as he realized how cheesy he sounded "More than."

Mark's eyes warmed at this, he knew his love to be speaking from his heart.

And that was enough for him as well.

**xXxXxXx**

Morrison was called warmly into the room, and he obeyed. He pushed open the door, revealing the blue and white themed office. There was a cushioned chair placed in front of a plush white couch, an extensively packed book shelf the perfect background to the scene. He smiled at the rather beautiful middle aged woman in the singled out chair, giving her a graceful nod. He received one in return. Her hair was an almost anime-ish color pink-red, the straight, sleek locks pulled and twisted into a bun atop her head. Ebony chopsticks were stuck through them, holding them in place. Her eyes were a framed by dark red frames, equally dark diamonds dangling from her ears. A jeweled collar was around her neck, the same dark sapphire as her low shoulder long-sleeved shirt.

She was the kind of woman you could fall in love with, faint age lines around her mouth and across her cheeks. Her clipboard was laid on her crossed thigh, skirt fluttering just an inch above her long-legged boots. Her shirt was parted to reveal the graceful line of her chest-

"Eyes up here, John" she chuckled.

"Sorry" he raised his eyes obediently, giving her a brilliant smile "You get lovelier every day, Jeanne."

"Mmm-hmm" she tapped her pen on her clipboard "I'm old enough to be your mother."

"My very _young_ mother" John persisted, walking over and plopping down onto the couch with the carelessness of someone who'd done it a hundred times. Had it been a hundred? He couldn't remember.

What he could remember was the first time he'd come here. Shawn had driven him, and let him wear his leather coat so he could be immersed in the manly scent of his master. He'd managed to get through the door with the help of Jeanne (then he stuttered out Dr. Melpomene instead.) She had been so loving, so careful, so sweet…he couldn't help but let her lead him to the couch. He'd sat down rather hesitantly, keeping Shawn's coat pulled tight around him. Jeanne was understanding enough not to even hint at an offer to take it, like most would out of common courtesy. He'd had an affinity to his master's clothes after the 'incident', even today he liked to curl up in one of Shawn's old shirts. But those first couple months had been horrible, he never wanted to wear his own stylish threads.

Ironic…something he so coveted once had become so repulsive.

Shawn had been outside the entire time, reading _The Green Mile _rather contently in the lobby. He'd worn his shades, but even then a little girl had come up to him and asked for an autograph on a bookmark she had snagged at the reception desk. Later, John learned Shawn had signed it and sent her off with a little kiss on the hand before her mother had even turned around.

John could also remember not knowing what to say to her.

"_So…I'm addicted to shopping."_

They had both chuckled at that first line, his laugh more brittle than her own silky giggle. He'd touched along his scar, then sighed. It had sounded like a sputtering car to his ears, he recalled that much.

"…_I've always relied so much on my looks…it's like, if I don't look good…no one can love me."_

"_Is that true?"_

John had thought of his friends then, of his master…and how much they loved him.

"…_no."_

"John?"

John shook his head of raven tresses, tilting his head up and smiling at her.

"I'm sorry, Jeanne" he apologized "I was remembering my first time here."

Her smile was sympathetic, "It's okay. It was all so new to you then. I don't blame you for being nervous."

Jeanne turned her attention back to her clipboard, clicking her pen.

"How's your progress this past month?" she inquired lightly.

"Well, I've been getting my old strength back" John replied, thinking about it "I told you last month that I was going back into wrestling. I did. I've healed enough to look presentable, thanks to some really good scar cream. I had my first comeback match after we talked. I did really well, better than I would've thought. Better than anyone thought, really."

Jeanne tilted her head, expression gone from her face, "Does that make you happy? Being back in the ring."

"Yeah" he admitted "There's nothing like it. Creative gave me this really cool spin, and no one's really noticed the marks."

In an almost subconscious effort, John reached up and touched his cheek. Only a few spots showed signs of scarring. A line along his thigh, one on the swell of his cheek, and the bit of cut beside his nipple. Out of the bloody gash he had, he considered himself lucky.

She scribbled something down, "And the _dreams_, Johnny? What about those?"

"I haven't had a nightmare in two months" John was more than relieved to tell her so "I'm not saying I won't ever have them again…but so far, I've been sleeping pretty well."

She quirked a brow, "How about in the bedroom? You jumped back into the saddle rather quickly with Shawn…do you think that's effected you in the longer run?"

John's eyes lit up instantly, smoldering even, "Do you even have to ask?"

"I hope it's for a good reason."

"So good" he threw his arms along the back of the couch, clicking his tongue like he was hitting on her "We were never able to keep our hands off each other. Now's no different. I love him, and I trust him. He had me after dozens of other men had…what was one more?"

They chatted idly about his career, his training. His friends, and how he was getting along with them.

Jeanne leaned forward suddenly, putting down the pen. She removed her glasses, showing that her eyes had softened around the edges. She looked at him curiously, hope in her small painted smile.

"How do _you_ think you're doing?"

"I think…" he inhaled slowly, blinking at her like he was seeing something blurry past her "I think I'm getting better."

This pleased Jeanne, and she put back on her glasses.

**xXxXxXx**

Like most thought, Ted handled his situation the best. He didn't need therapy, he just needed time and quiet meditation. He'd been through so much…he overcame this rather quickly. There was only once where he'd broken, and that was the first time John touched him intimately a month after he'd been rescued.

Ted destroyed their bedroom, and nearly set the house on fire in his rage to break everything in front of him. Thankfully, John had beaten the flames out of the curtains before they could spread much further (a candle from the dresser had been knocked over while it was being flipped.)

That was one thing he couldn't get over. The fear of the dark, the touches from other people, being alone…he could do all that. But if John even kissed him the wrong way, he could snap. He ended up clawing his master across the face once for playfully scooping him out of the bath. It had been all laughs and splashes before, but the moment John's hand brushed his ass…he drew bloody lines with his razor-like nails.

Ted felt horrible for weeks about that, and he crooned over his master until there wasn't a trace of the wound left in his lover's skin. John told him over and over it was okay, but the blonde wouldn't have it.

Ted had gotten back into the ring with his master, two months of following him from hotel to hotel before he decided he could deal with the stress again.

But now, after seven months, he was ready to try again.

John was kneeling on their bed, thick thighs spread as he braced his weight on the soft mattress. He was bare except for a pair of white boxer-briefs that framed his package like gift wrap. Ted's mouth was watering for it already, and that was the best sign he could hope for. Though simply himself, John couldn't have been more desirable…more _lickable_, if he was covered in honey. His smooth, stalwart body was open for him…for whatever he wanted. He was standing on the edge of the bed, his master looking at him with an unguarded expression of hope.

Ted reached out, laying his hand along the older man's pec. John sighed at the touch, but didn't push. Slowly, he began to take off his own clothes. He stopped when he got to his briefs, taking measured breaths as his tail swayed dejectedly past his legs. The scars were fading, but there were some that were seared so deeply into his flesh that they'd never go away.

John's eyes drifted over him, lust and appreciation in his eyes. But most importantly? There was love there, sketched into the very cerulean irises that he loved. With a small smile, Ted reached out and took the man's meaty hand by the wrist. He placed it flat over his abs, sighing and tilting his head back at the intimate touch. The older man's breath had picked up as well.

"We go as far as you want, kitten" John assured him in a strained voice, like he was holding himself back.

"No" Ted looked down at him, feeling his knees trembling "I want you to have me like you want. Dominate me. Claim me. I…I-I need it…I need to feel owned. Loved. Please, Master…"

John didn't need to be asked twice. He picked his lover up, and in a gentle scoop-slam, he pinned him to the bed. Ted cried out, but it was in pleasure as his lover's fulsome body covered his own. He spread his thighs without being told, cradling those thick hips he loved to have pounding into him.

John dropped kisses all down his boy's body, moaning in relief as he got the first taste of his flesh in months.

"I love you, kitten…I'm gonna show you just how much…"

Ted's heart swelled with love for this man, nodding vigorously.

"Give me everything."

**xXxXxXx**

It was freezing in Michigan, though it was the end of January. The two blonde brothers shivered and sighed out crystals, nearly hidden by the overhang of trees. They were standing beside the lake, looking out over it's half-frozen surface with squinted eyes. The sunlight gleamed brightly off it, but the light was soon taken away by a well-placed cloud cover.

Jay sighed in relief, letting his eyes adjust to the sudden shadow. He blinked dully out at the scene before him, his breath dancing around his head for a moment before fading away. His jacket was a little bulkier than his half brother's, fur trimmed thick at the collars. He shuddered sharply just once, his eyes the color of the ice gathering around the middle of the lake.

Adam stood beside him, his thick leather jacket doing well to keep the cold away. His hair was pulled into a messy bun, his sleek sunglasses perched atop his head. There was a scar, there…just above his eyebrow. Unlike his brother, who'd gotten away with his ordeal with no more than mental scarring, he hadn't been so lucky. That mark would stay with him his entire life, but it was just something he'd have to live with.

The only mark Jay seemed to retain was the constant phobia of stairwells and a few nightmares. Mostly, he just got angry in little bouts. He'd always been a livewire, but it had gotten worse as of late. With time, he cooled, but he was still quick to raise his fists. He'd had no use for Dr. Melpomene, after one session he'd called it quits on the whole thing.

"_I can deal with it myself, Adam. I don't need that woman telling me what I should do to heal myself."_

After a small bickering fight, he'd broken down and his voice had turned into a rasp.

"_I know I'm broken, Master…I don't need someone to tell me that day after day. Just let me do it, alright?"_

And Adam had trusted his sub and his brother to know what was best for him.

So far, it had worked.

"This is it?" Jay asked, casting a side-long glance at his older brother.

Adam nodded, "This is it."

"He's here? Beneath the ice?"

He had the decency to hang his head, "Yeah."

"Hmph" Jay's nose twitched, something the taller of the two was known to do "I thought I'd feel something."

"You don't?"

Jay examined himself inside for a moment, taking a checklist to his very soul. He tried to rustle up something, but there was nothing there to stir.

"Nope" he tried not to pout, a bit disappointed. He thought coming to the sight where one of his rapists was buried would help him settle the death of the other. Truth be told, he just wanted to make the trip. Angle wasn't on his conscious, not anymore. That was a burden for another, Jarrett or Carter even. What little of Angle's family could deal with it.

His shoulders were light, the weight of the death was gone.

Adam stepped up behind him, wrapping his arms around his waist. Jay let out a little exhale of pleasure, leaning back into the embrace like he hadn't had contact with his master in years. When, in fact, it had only been minutes before when they were walking to this secluded part of the lake.

Adam slid his eyes over to his brother, "What now?"

"Now?" Jay ran his tongue over his top teeth "Now we get back on the road. We only had two days for this little vacation, anyway."

The shorter blonde started to walk away, long legs eating up the distance. Adam stood there, watching him go with an odd expression. He wasn't sure if this was a good or bad reaction.

"If you hurry, we can have a quickie in the car" Jay called over his shoulder, not looking back.

Adam hurried to make tracks, not wanting to miss out on some fun time.

By the time he reached his sub's side, Jay had hidden the pleased smirk that had curled his lips.

**xXxXxXx**

The first thing Evan had done when they'd gotten home was make a phone call, and the next day men had showed up to uproot all the carpet in their living room. Chris hadn't said a word in protest, just handed over his credit card to pay for the little remodeling. Evan told him he'd pay for it out of his own wallet, but his master had been persistent.

Now, months later, Chris had been so sure that everything was falling back into place. His life was coming to order, his pet was getting happier by the day. They'd gotten a puppy, something Evan could play with in the backyard when they were home. Something that loved them, a little cocker-spaniel pup that would growl playfully at his sub and nip at his fingers. It wasn't real high maintenance, so the maid could feed it and take it out for a walk when she came by during the week.

They were gone for long periods of time, but it loved them both all the same.

Then, one day, Chris realized that Evan would never fully heal.

Chris opened the door to their bedroom, striding inside and starting to strip off his clothes. He'd just gotten his shirt pulled over his head when he saw his boy standing there by his bed, back to him.

"Evvy?" Chris cooed, smiling to see the young man after they'd had to take separate flights "Sweetling, what are you doing?"

Evan didn't say a word. He turned to face his master, and the first thing he saw were the tears. His cheeks were soaked, eyes red, the saltine streams trickling down over his chin and puddling on the floor. He looked so miserable, so broken…it shredded Chris's heart to see it. He felt it like a sucker punch to the gut, and for a second he couldn't breathe.

Evan was holding up their handcuffs, their play cuffs. His crimson-tinted eyes were far away, lost in his own personal memories. He was immersed in his own world. Standing there, looking at the shiny cuffs, he'd gone back to when he was young and his father had whipped off his belt in order to punish him for a crime he didn't commit.

"_Daddy, don't…please don't hit me…"_

"_Be good for a second and I'll make the pain go away, alright boy?"_

Evan blinked out of his haze when he felt Jericho slowly ease the metal from his fingers. He shook his head sharply, his voice no more than a rasp.

"Master?"

Chris took the handcuffs, looked at them a moment, then tossed them in the trash can beside their bed. Instead, he took his love's wrists in his hands. He lifted them, pressing his mouth first to one…then the other. There were thin scars on both, reminding them forever of what had gone on in this house.

"Never again" Chris promised lowly.

Evan collapsed into his arms, more tears leaking silently down his face. He was flushed from the effort of holding in his sobs, but refused to allow him. He wanted to thank his master, but only one thing came out.

"…I want us to move out of this house…"

"Anything you want, precious."

**xXxXxXx**

Matt was just settling into his hotel for the weekend when he heard the door click, smirking when it flew open and smacked into the wall. Like he expected, he was speared from the side and taken down onto the bed. He gave a belly laugh, wrapping his arms around the energetic mass that was squirming on top of him. He dropped a kiss in blonde-and-black colored locks, getting the faintly fruity smell of Skittles for his efforts.

Jeff latched onto his brother and didn't let go, laughing when the other tried to dislodge him and failed. He hadn't seen Matt in weeks, he wasn't about to let go now.

Seven months ago, neither knew that Vince's little exchange with _TNA_ would happen just about the same time that Jeff's contract had expired. Carter had seen this as an opportunity, and had demanded the younger Hardy as part of her hush-price. After a long discussion with Vince, the Hardy brothers decided it wouldn't kill them if Jeff was at _TNA_ for a year or so.

Surprisingly, it hadn't put a strain on their relationship. If anything, it had strengthened it. They were always happy to see each other, and their little fights on the phone always ended up with one of them calling back right away and apologizing.

Their master/sub relationship had relaxed since his attack. Jeff's tongue had gotten a little looser, and he shied away from Matt's darker needs. But once in a while he got the urge to be reminded who he utterly and completely belonged to, and Matt was always there to indulge him. It seemed like with time, that side of their relationship would strengthen and Jeff would become the picture-perfect pet again.

Until then, they were just a pair of brothers play-wrestling on a bed.

Eventually, when they were panting and smiling like loons, they spread out on the bed. Still close, the older Hardy let his eyes roam over his brother's smooth, pale back. His lips parted in a pleased 'oh' of surprise, the outline of the Hardy symbol was now filled in and lined with soft purple ink. The design was finished, nothing short of beauty on his brother's back.

"It's amazing."

"I know" Jeff turned back to him "Shannon finished it."

"Knew he would."

Matt pat the bed next to him, full lips quirking.

"Come 'ere."

Jeff obeyed, crawling over and plopping down into the sheets.

"You thinkin' what I'm thinkin' ?" Matt winked down at him, pulling a pillow beneath his head.

"Oh hell yeah."

They scooted closer, exchanging a brief kiss.

A few minutes later, they'd slipped off into a nap.

**xXxXxXx**

Night had fallen in St. Charles, Missouri. The Orton-Rhodes was home pretty silent. The doors were locked, the windows were shut. But the upstairs bedroom window had it's curtain pulled back, but unfortunately there was no moon tonight. Instead, the low glow of the nearby city and the stars provided a dreamy light.

Randy had his leanly muscled form stretched out on the sheets, nude as the day he was born and unashamed. His tattoos were like shadows on his tan flesh, dancing with every flex of his muscles. He was wide awake, watching his pet with a possessive gaze.

Cody was fast asleep next to him, nude as well but covered by a stark white sheet. His head was turned toward his lover, ears twitching once and a while but otherwise still. His breaths were silent, firm chest rising and falling in slow waves. Randy had his hand splayed over the taut curve of the boy's belly, a smile quirking his thin lips.

With all the snake-like grace he possessed, Randy slithered down the bed without moving the mattress too much. He leaned down and kissed the plump belly, nuzzling it with all the love of a proud father. Slowly, so as not to wake his love, his dropped light kisses along the curve of flesh. He knew Cody would get bigger, he was just now starting to show. But he couldn't stop himself from stroking his fingers across the brunette's hips and lower chest with a certain devotion fueling his touches.

They'd slipped back into bed almost right away. Cody had used Dr. Melpomene as a crutch for the first month, letting out all his pent-up emotions and doing what she told him to help ease the pain. Jeanne had suggested to Cody to trust Randy and resume the sexual side of their relationship, and after some long thought he'd agreed.

They had monthly visits from Dr. Collins, who was solely devoted to them thanks to Mark's payroll. He had a habit of choosing one person and sticking with them, and more likely than not those people were faithful.

Like Jeanne, and now Misha.

Randy had forgiven the doctor for his folly after he found out Cody had taken his seed and was pregnant once more. A son. He'd been scared to death at first, shaking Misha until his teeth rattled while barking at him about how it was dangerous for Cody to be pregnant so soon after his attack (wasn't it?) Though his head was being jolted back and forth, Dr. Collins had managed to tell him that it was okay - that Cody was just fertile, that there was no need to worry.

Randy had closed his eyes in bliss, rubbing his cheek along the silky texture of his boy's belly. He was whispering little words of love into the skin, knowing his baby son could understand him in his own way. He told him so many things in these late night sessions, from his own childhood to how lucky he was to have two such devoted fathers. He could feel slight movement beneath his cheek. Randy whispered about how he loved it when he kicked, that he would be a strong man one day.

"You never tell _me_ how much you love the way I kick."

Randy's eyes snapped open, tilting his head to look up the length of the younger man's body to see he was awake. Cody was blinking at him rather sleepily, but his bee-stung lips were turned up in a smile.

"That's because…" Randy rumbled, crawling up the bed and coming face-to-face with his lover "I love it better when you bite."

Cody smiled wider, lips pulled back enough to expose the sharp little fangs he possessed. He dropped a kiss on his forehead, sliding to the side so he could take the weight off the smaller man.

"I didn't mean to wake you up" Randy apologized, resting his palm flat along his swollen belly.

"You didn't" Cody glared down at his stomach "_He_ did."

Randy raised his eyebrows at this, "Is he supposed to be that strong?"

"I only have a month and a half left" Cody pointed out, swallowing down a yawn "Women are ovens, I'm a microwave."

Randy dipped his head, snickering at the analogy. Cody laughed with him, tilting his head back to get more comfortable on the pillows. He paused when he felt pressure at his neck, more than he usually felt. He realized that his master was touching the collar forever circled around his throat, his fingertips tracing the faint initials there.

Cody smiled and purred under the symbolic touch.

"No one's going to take you away from me" Randy said suddenly, surprising his sub "Our son…he's only going to have the best. I'm going to spoil you two rotten."

Cody reached up, skidding his palm across the older man's smooth cheek.

"You're going to make such a good father."

Cody yawned widely after this, giving a little keen. He let his lashes flutter shut, the wave of exhaustion coming back over him. He shifted his head a little on the pillow, sinking into it.

With his master still nuzzling his belly, Cody fell asleep.

**xXxXxXx**

_Jake knew he was dreaming. Usually that was enough to pull him out of said trap, but not this time. He made himself stay where he was, not knowing where he was but knowing he had to be there. He was standing in a hallway he'd never seen before, the details vague enough for it to be any middle-class home. There was a door in front of him, and there was muffled sobs coming from behind it. He braced himself, grabbing the knob and jolting like it shocked him. But he was damned determined to open this door, so he pushed it open. _

_He could see his master…only younger, much smaller, much more vulnerable. He was bent over his own bed, crying in heartfelt sobs and clawing at the blanket. He was pinned down at the neck by a shadow…someone he trusted, someone Jake had never met…_

"Shit" Jake cursed, gasping himself awake. He stayed where he was, hyper aware, every muscle in his body rippling as the shot of adrenaline burned his system. He flexed his fingers tight around his pillow, closing his eyes long enough for him to get his breathing under control. He slowly sat up, using one arm to brace himself while his free hand scrubbed over his face. His hair stuck up in tufts, cheeks flushed and warm from sleep. He didn't bother to turn on the light, there was fresh sunlight peeking in through the curtains. He peered at the clock, growling to see it was six in the morning.

The dream faded fast, he didn't have time to grasp it's meaning before he couldn't even remember if Mike had been in it or not. Something bad…something horrible He could hear words in his head like a forgotten lullaby, as if someone had told him it while he was asleep.

"_He used to laugh when I started crying, so I stopped."_

Where the hell had he heard that? Was it a movie? Or a tv show? He couldn't remember, and it drove him crazy. He rolled his neck, shaking his shoulders like a powerful lion before he got out of bed. He had to talk to his master about this, maybe he knew what the hell was going on.

As he padded out of the room, Jake scratched at his head and winced when his nails grazed his scar from the stitches. They'd been pretty okay since that incident months ago, they were both champions at the moment. Miz held the US belt, while his own World Heavyweight Championship was in the bedroom in a box. Sometimes they'd wear their belts around the house, sweep with it on or watch TV. If they felt really kinky, they'd make love with them both on.

It was quite the experience.

There was one thing, though. It bugged him, but there wasn't much he could do about it. Miz would get distant sometimes. It was as if he was keeping Jake at arms length. That didn't quell their passion nor did it keep Miz from lavishing him with attention and affection. But there was a quiet in the house where there wasn't one before. When it was just them, Miz didn't engage in too much conversation. It was as if he were afraid of saying too much, of sparking a subject that was taboo.

Jake padded down the stairs, a lop-sided grin appearing on his face when he saw his master sitting on the couch in his pajamas. The lavender had been taken from his hair a while ago, replaced with golden highlights that had almost turned him into a blonde. He didn't wear fedoras much anymore, he seemed as if he were breaking himself of the habit now that his character didn't wear them anymore.

Miz had a glass of red wine on the table, the curtains in the living room pushed open to let the newborn sunlight inside. His simple black clothes accentuated his long body, his tightening muscles. He was trimming down now that he wore only trunks into the ring, his waist becoming slimmer and revealing a curve at his hips that he wasn't supposed to have (as a man.) His legs were folded beneath him, coffee table pulled close to the couch. There was a magazine laid open in front of him, he was braced against the arm of the couch and peering down at it.

Mike glanced up, giving a little sound of surprise to see the younger man there.

" 'Morning, Jake-love" Miz tilted his head, smiling sweetly.

"Hey" the blonde crept down into the living room, standing on the other side of the coffee table "What are you doing?"

"I'm just shopping for something to buy the Orton brat" Mike teased, though he was really delighted that they were given a second chance "This kid is going to be showered in gifts, and I want to make sure he remembers that his Uncle Miz is ready to spend a ridiculously ton of money on him."

Jake was smiling before he could stop himself. All anyone could talk of lately was the new baby, and he wouldn't have it any other way. Cody was positively glowing, and Miz had been the first in line to feel the baby kick (after the proud father, of course.)

"Listen, Master" Jake started "I've been having these dreams lately. They've been…disturbing, at best."

The words were hard to say with his lisp, but he managed to get them out just fine.

Miz sat up, brow creased, "About what?"

"…_he dislocated my jaw…"_

"I'm not sure" Jake walked over and sat down on the other side of the couch "I think it's about someone being hurt. I don't know where I heard it from. Maybe it's something I dreamed…"

"_He was pissed, said I thought I was so much God-damn better than him."_

Jake jerked his head, "No, I didn't dream it. It wa-th real."

Mike blanched suddenly, "Do you…remember anything specific about it?"

"Someone was raped, I think" Jake pursed his lips "By someone they trusted. I had a dream earlier…but I can't remember who it was."

"…_God, he stank of whiskey…"_

"It's so hard to remember for some reason" he closed his eyes briefly, trying to concentrate "Someone poured their heart out to me, and I can't remember."

Miz looked back to the magazine, unable to meet his eyes, "I'm sure it's nothing."

"_I screamed and cried…but he did it anyway." _

Jake's eyes snapped open when he realized who had been bent over the bed in his dream. Those icy blue eyes, he'd recognize them anywhere. That face…his master's face.

"It was you, wa-thn't it?"

Mike tried to laugh it off, "Shut up, man. No one hurt me."

The blonde gave him a cold, unyielding look, "It _was_ you."

Mike was getting impatient, "No, it wasn't-"

"It was your father."

Miz opened his mouth to snap at him again, ready to assert his authority. But that look, that steely look, told him that Jake wasn't about to let this go. He felt something inside him crack, and he sank into the couch. He had to tell him, there was no way around it.

"When you were asleep…" he refused to say 'coma' "Back when Kozlov attacked you…I told you some things about my past. I answered some questions you had."

"About what?"

"About…" Mike raised his eyes, gazing at his sub and looking ten years older than he should "About why I need you."

On the crisp, sunny January morning…Mike told his love all about his how father abused him.

And Jake, loving him in return, accepted it.

He was enraged, but he knew there was nothing he could do about it.


	37. Chapter 37

Kevin Nash strode through the hall backstage with purpose, chin held high and tall stature dwarfing anyone who passed. He'd been called to a meeting during one of their house shows, this meant that it'd been made last minute and Bischoff had no other time to fit it in. On either side of him were his boys, Alex and Chris. They were clad in their 'Motor City Machine Guns' get-up, sparkling beautifully under the harsh light. They flanked him perfectly, growling at anyone who dared to look at them funny.

As their master, it should be his job to protect them. And he did, to an extent. His boys were lovers long before he'd come into the picture, and they were used to getting picked on and shoved around. They'd developed thick skin, but they now needed their Big Sexy like they needed their next breath. He was the element they'd been missing in their relationship, one they couldn't live without.

Chris hadn't been new to the dom/sub world. Apparently, he had an older brother who had a male sub. But Alex…he'd never even heard of the concept. It had taken Kevin and Chris a while to teach the youngest all the rules, the protocol and such, but he had gotten the hang of it.

"Do you know what this is about, Master?" Chris inquired lowly, making sure they were alone in the hall.

"No clue, Demon" Kevin replied, using their play name.

Back at home, there were two collars wrapped in silk sitting on a desk in a special room they called the playroom. One was a leather, red-silk thread embroidered collar that read 'Demon' in sketchy lettering. The other was white faux-leather with a velvet finished 'Angel' in fancy script across the front. They were both expensive and beautiful in their own way, jeweled clasps for each.

Of course, the doe-eyed man beside him was his 'angel', no other could fit that slot more perfectly than Alex. He was kind-hearted, innocent in most things, but energetic and enthusiastic to learn. He wasn't some prissy, timid mouse…but he wasn't exactly the devil Chris had proven himself to be. Chris was the one Kevin went to when he was in the mood to hurt, when he wanted to be rough, when he had a hard day. When he felt like biting and pounding and clawing…Chris was the one who could endure it, who could take it without protest and actually enjoy it.

Alex didn't like blood play, and if he ever limped the next day…it broke his master's heart.

They reached the office they'd been called to, the younger ones nervous. Alex's fingers flexed in small spasms, something he only did when he was anxious. Chris reached behind their master's back, taking one of his hand's in his own. They exchanged smiles, the older knew his best friend better than anyone else. Kevin looked between them proudly, glad that they'd found that special friendship and love all in one person.

Kevin could never be jealous of Alex and Chris's personal relationship. They'd given themselves to him, and that was enough. How could he begrudge them any type of affection?

Deciding there was no point standing out there, Kevin rapped the door with his knuckles. There was a long pause, one through which the young brunette shuffled his feet.

"Come in, boys."

Kevin wrinkled his nose at being called a 'boy', but he opened the door nonetheless. He went in first, eyes sweeping the room to make sure there was no danger there. What he found took the breath from his lungs, and he stood there positively dumbfounded for much too long. He felt small hands on his back, whispered words inquiring about his state of mind.

Eric was there on one end, but he wasn't the one in charge. Sitting dead in the middle of the table, on the other side as himself, was none other than his old friend Mark Calaway. He looked as menacing as ever, surpassing him in height but not in weight. They hadn't spoken face-to-face since he'd acquired his boys, they'd both been bragging on their new subs over a few drinks. Subtly drawn kohl touched the man's brilliant eyes, he was leaning back in his chair with a hand folded just beneath his chin. There, beside him, was the little darkling punk himself. His Straightedge arm bands were dyed black, blood-red X's across the back of them. His ebony lacquered nails glinted in the light, the bit of raven beard he had doing nothing to hide his fresh face. He had a buckled collar around his neck, on it…was a an Undertaker mark, etched into the burnt umber surface of it. The ring in his lip gleamed as well, drawing one's attention to his not-quite-full mouth. Raven tresses fell into his face, fingers steepled in front of him.

They were an intimidating pair.

Eric looked strained and pale, but he gestured, "Sit, Nash."

Kevin ignored him.

"It's been a long time, Mark" Kevin drawled "A year? Two?"

"Little longer than that" Mark clicked his tongue "Much too long for good friends like us."

Kevin inclined his head, but didn't reply.

"Boys" Kevin rumbled "Sit."

Chris and Alex did as they were told, sitting on either side of the spot Kevin had a hand on (which was for himself.) They were in their leather and chains, Chris's hood (which he quickly raked back) had spikes on it like those of a metal dinosaur, and links of silver stretched across his jacket. Alex's punk-star arm bands glittered, as did his forearm cuffs. They were a lovely sight, a young sight.

Punk smiled at them, he'd watched the young Guns perform on TNA a countless number of times. But this was the first time he'd met them. The subs seemed to acknowledge that this was like a meeting of The Court, where they didn't speak unless told to. He glanced toward his intimidating master, then toward Nash. There was a tension there, but it was the _best_ kind of tension. It spoke of history, of old alliances and hopefully new ones.

There was a clipboard on the table, a contract hooked to it.

Kevin's eyes never left the younger man's, he'd always trumped Mark in years as well. Six years, actually. He sat down, choosing to sit with his elbows braced on the desk. It was the exact opposite of Mark in every way, _he_ was the opposite of him in every way.

/This is good/ Mark mused /I need this./

"What could make The Undertaker trudge all the way down to the 7th layer of the Pro-Wrestling world?" Kevin wondered aloud.

"That wit, right there, I've missed it" Mark smirked, gesturing "Your boys are beautiful."

"I do take my pride in them" Kevin replied "Alex here was born right in my hometown, both from my state."

"Like they were made for you" the Deadman chuckled darkly.

"Yes" Kevin's eyes slid over to Phil, who quirked an eyebrow at him "Every year, your punk gets more handsome. He's barely older than my Chris. It seems we can't keep our hands off the youngblood."

Mark said nothing, just gave a small nod of agreement.

"Speaking of them…" Kevin began to relax, leaning back in his chair "Do you see any potential masters amongst those _NXT_ brats?"

"Hmm, not so much" Mark tisked "I see that Matt's young Justin Gabriel is a sub. Maybe in the next batch."

Kevin had spread his upper arms along the back of his chair, one hand reaching out and caressing Chris's neck. The young man leaned into it, knowing his master loved to play with his long hair.

"Why'd you come here?" Kevin inquired, getting to the question he'd been wanting to ask.

Mark gave a frown, "Can't an old friend come see another old friend?"

Kevin gave a sharp laugh, then cut himself short, "No."

Mark actually threw his head back and laughed. He'd missed Kevin so much in his everyday life. There were only so many people in this world who would call him out on his bullshit. Kevin couldn't stop himself and began to chuckle as well. Their shared laughter was like thunder in the closed space. Alex ducked his head, a small smile appearing on his face. Chris and Punk met eyes, raised eyebrows, but didn't say anything.

"Look at this" Mark pushed the clipboard towards the older man. With the lightening-fast reflexes of men half his age, Kevin slapped his hand down on the board and whipped it around to peer at the contract stuck there. He started to read over it, eyes widening slowly as he realized just what he had in front of him. He looked to the Head Master, wary of his intentions.

"Do you know what you're offering me?"

"Not just you" Phil spoke up for the first time, reaching into his Hot Topic skeleton hoody and pulling out two folded, thick pieces of paper. He slid one over to Chris, another over to Alex. The Motor City brats hesitated, looking to their master for permission. Kevin nodded, and (almost in unison) they unfolded the contracts and began to read.

The contracts were for WWE, the details of pay and time there. Promises of title runs, depending on crowd reaction and so forth. It was for all three of them, with Kevin promised more behind-the-scene and managing jobs (even an announcer spot) if he should choose to take it easy on the matches.

"This is silver" Kevin sat back in the chair, narrowing his eyes suspicious.

This confused the other man, "I don't know what you mean."

"I know thirty pieces of silver when I see it" Kevin's eyes were sharp, he wasn't one to let the shoe drop before he got it's size and weight "What's the catch? Whose so important that you need three TNA dregs to fill in the spot?"

Alex opened his mouth to protest to being called a 'dreg', but a large hand cupped the back of his head and threaded through his hair.

"Not you two, Angel" Kevin soothed without looking at either of the Guns.

Punk looked confused, and he shot his master a look. Mark's grin had dropped, he looked more solemn than ever. There was a…a sadness in his eyes, the worry lines in his face more pronounced. He looked like a man who'd lost his best friend, and that's when it hit him.

"No, Mark…don't tell me that" Kevin slowly closed his eyes, letting the realization wash over him "Don't tell me he's…he's leaving, isn't he?"

Punk was looking at his master with shock, he hadn't known about anyone leaving.

"Shawn is…_tired_" Mark began slowly, ignoring his sub's sharp inhale "He's going to retire in the next few months. He's done a lot in his years, and he's ready to relax. Maybe he'll come back…but I doubt it."

"I'm so sorry, Mark" Kevin folded his hands on the table, letting his weight rest on his forearms "But what do you want from me?"

"I need a new second, my Court will be left with no Beta" Mark began, he sounded very official "Cena isn't ready, too much has happened for him to take up the responsibility just yet. One day he'll make a good Head Master…a leader for his generation. But until then, I need someone I can trust beside me. You can help me guide him, mold him into what we know will last in this industry. Who would know better than us?"

Kevin was greatly surprised at this offer. It'd been years since he'd been in the Court, since he'd had responsibilities. He'd found his own life here, away from loyalty that didn't extend past his boys. A small part of him wanted to keep that kind of life. But the larger part of him, the dominant/Master part of him, had seen the looks the locker room gave his boys and he _knew _he couldn't trust anyone there.

"You've weeded out the snakes in the WWE, haven't you?" Kevin asked softly.

"Yes" Mark assured him, a tone of low drawl "Though half came from your side of the garden…_yes_, they're gone. My court is greatly respected now. No one's so much as sparred with the boys since the rumors started."

"I see" Kevin wasn't surprised by this, Mark had told him himself what they'd done to the men who'd taken it upon themselves to try and knock the Court down a peg "Well, those are some pretty promises."

Mark cocked his head at Bischoff, "How much do you want for these three?"

"They're not cattle" Eric scoffed, but there were dollar signs in his eyes.

Mark rolled his eyes, "Of course not."

The Deadman held out his hand expectantly. Punk immediately sat back, pulling open his hoody-jacket once more to reveal a silk pocket. He reached inside, the same place where he'd kept the contracts, and pulled out a small folded check. He handed it to his master, getting a little buss across his knuckles in thanks. Mark slid it over to the slighter man, who snatched it up greedily and looked at the figure.

"You'll get a little bit more from Vince" Mark's smirk came back "If you're lucky."

Eric was drooling at the mouth, eyes shiny as the dollar signs in them doubled.

Kevin briefly read over both his boys' contracts, glad to see they could keep their gimmick and their names. They wouldn't be a tag-team right away, but in a year or so they could pick back up where they were now. He looked into their young faces, seeing the unbridled excitement at the proposition of going to the WWE.

"We'll do whatever you want" Alex whispered, knowing it needed to be said "Wherever you want to go…we'll follow."

Kevin seemed pleased by this answer. He looked up at his old friend, holding out his palm.

"We need some pens."

Mark gladly passed along the instruments, his nerves settling as he heard the first clicks of the pens.

**xXx**

A month later, Kevin found himself bonded quite closely to Randy and Chris in particular. It seemed their subs had become the best of friends in the same time it took Jay to get used to having the Guns around. The three masters were lounging on the back porch of Chris's new house, there was no humidity in South Carolina and the cool breeze from the nearby sea took away the glare of the sun.

Chris, Alex, Evan, and Cody were inside right now killing each other on a game called _Halo III. _Even with a swollen belly and faint nausea, Cody was kicking all their butts. When they'd first met, Alex had politely asked to touch his belly while Chris was already stroking his ears and tail. Cody had fallen in love with the Guns, it was good to have men his own age around who had the energetic and upbeat nature of Evan. That's what had attracted the Bourne kid to them, their similarities.

"I knew you'd make it" Kevin drawled suddenly, head inclined toward the blonde. Chris raised his brows behind his sunglasses, and Randy put down his book.

"Me?"

"Yeah, Chris" Kevin chuckled lightly "Back when you were the little green spurt, the new master. I was sure you'd find someone and take care of him. When you took that boy in there…I was a little worried. He's almost half your age."

Chris's lips turned in a smirk, "So is Alex."

"Touché."

Kevin and Chris clinked beers, laughing at a joke that Randy didn't quite get.


	38. Chapter 38

**And this is it! The final chapter of The Court's Story. I know you all have been patiently waiting, so I won't keep you waiting a moment longer. It's nothing real epic, it just ties everything up. I'm sorry if it's not what you expected, but it took me a snow day to even get started on it.**

**

* * *

**

**Two Years After The Attacks**

"That a boy" Cody cooed, holding his little boy's hands in his own "Come on, show your father how you can run. Come on, stand up."

Randy was leaning against the wall beside them, looking on with a warm pride in his eyes. He was taping up his wrists for his match later, already clad in his ring gear. Cody sat against the wall, legs crossed and head free of any hat (his smooth tail curled around his waist). They no longer feared anyone finding out, not after the stern 'don't ask/don't tell' policy that Vince set up for them. That's why they let their year and a half old son out without a hat or coat while they were protected in the arena.

Young Alec had the soft brunette hair like his younger father, as well as the chocolate colored ears and tail. But those stormy grey eyes were that of an Orton, and that stare…it was all Viper. He was clinging to Cody's hands at the moment, struggling to get to his feet. He had this intense look on his face, mouth set in a firm line as he tried to please his daddy.

"My strong boys" Randy murmured quietly.

Cody looked up at his master, the thread of his collar catching the light and gleaming brilliantly. He smiled, getting a loving ruffle to his hair. A purr escaped his lips, Alec mimicking the sound. He looked to his son with wide eyes, surprised.

"Did my Alec purr?" Cody smiled widely, hugging his song close to his chest and nuzzling his cheek across his head. Alec responded in kind, clinging to his daddy and burying his face in the man's soft t-shirt. Randy smiled warmly at the display, he never got enough of seeing the two of them all curled together like real cats. His two kittens, his boys, his responsibilities. His son, and his beautiful sub. The father of his child…one of his two real loves in this world. The other was currently snuggling into his daddy.

"You gonna show me how he runs before my match?" Randy teased.

"Oh, right!" Cody giggled, pushing Alec away enough to get him balanced on his feet "Come on, kid, let's show your father what we've been doing."

While Cody was focused on getting his son to walk across the hall, Ted rounded the corner and spotted the happy couple. His ears perked up, a smile splitting his face when he saw his best friend.

"Is that fat thing my nephew?" Ted teased, making his way over to the couple. When Alec was born, Randy had appointed John (and by proxy, Ted) the Godfather of their child. The blonde slid down the opposite wall of Cody, cooing at the toddler and urging him forward with his hands. Alec giggled, stumbling gracelessly over to the blonde and falling into his lap.

"Hey Teddy" Cody smiled at the other, looking him over carefully. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but there was something different about Ted. He looked…softer around the edges, a warmth to his cheeks. And his smell was off. He couldn't be…pregnant, could he? No, Ted would've told him.

/Unless he doesn't know/ Cody's smile turned into a smirk /Oh, awesome. My Teddy…a daddy. Super Cena is going to be pleased./

"Good luck on your match tonight" Ted looked to the master "Do you go on after Miz and Evan?"

"Yeah, me and Swagger" Randy rolled his neck "I'm gonna give that boy a run for his title belt."

"Heavyweight is quite the accomplishment" Cody tilted his head back, looking up at the taller man "Go easy on him, won't you?"

Randy reached down and ruffled his sub's hair once more, "Never, sweetness."

"And Phil will be commentating" Ted was dropping kisses along Alec's head, getting the little one to shake his head and snuffle like a puppy "That'll be interesting. Apparently he's giving Jack tips on how to defeat you."

"I hope so" Randy shrugged "He'll need it."

"Did I tell you the good new yet, Ted?" Cody chimed.

Ted raised a brow, indicating he hadn't the slightest idea. He let Alec use his hands as something solid to get to his feet, coaxing him to go back across the hall to his daddy.

"I'm pregnant again" Cody stated, patting his belly fondly "We found out it's a girl, and she's completely normal."

"What's normal, anyway?" Ted scoffed, giving Alec's tail a little tug and making the boy spazz "I'm happy for you, though, that's amazing. You little fertile brat."

Cody stuck his tongue out at his friend, opening his arms for his toddling son.

"You guys thought of any names yet?" the blonde inquired.

"Not really" Cody puckered up his lips thoughtfully "How about Jasmine?"

"What?" Ted chuckled heartily "What kind of name was that?"

As the boys started throwing names back and forth, Randy let his mind wander. His thoughts fell to that dark time two years ago, when he experienced the purest moment of joy mixed with the deepest sorrow…all within a single minute. The son he'd never know…lost because of a dead bastard and his own carelessness. He shouldn't have allowed his sub to come to the ring with him. They'd lost a child that day, and there was nothing he could do to change it now.

Now, this was his family. The memory would linger, and he'd never forget, but there was nothing he could do.

Randy opened his mouth to voice his opinion, "How about-"

"You have to come back!"

The heartbroken wail came from down the hall. Their heads whipped towards that direction, Cody hugged his son into his arms as if to protect him. In just a moment, Morrison stalked past the hall with a cellphone to his ear. He would've walked right past, but he was crying too hard to see where he was going. He hit the corner of the turn, collapsing against the stone.

"You ha-ave to come back, Shawn" John was begging breathlessly "You left me all alone here, and I-I can't take it! I need you here…"

Morrison continued to cry as he listened to his master, who was currently hundreds of miles away and trying to soothe them. He raked a hand through his raven hair, revealing his flushed, tear-stained face.

"Come back" John sniffled "I want you here. I can't be the next Shawn Michaels, I just…_can't_! Everyone expects so much, and I lost my title…please come back."

"Johnny!" Ted called, standing up to rush to their friend's side.

John looked up, a look of horror overtaking his face. He darted away down the other hall, obviously ashamed of his behavior. Ted bit the side of his lip, looking to Cody.

"I'm gonna-"

"Yeah, go" the brunette gestured for him to go.

Ted dashed off, set on catching their friend and calming him down.

Cody sighed, looking up at his master, "You know he's pregnant, don't you?"

…

"What?"

Cody laughed long and loud at the look on his master's face, cuddling Alec close.

These were the things that made life good.

**xXx**

"This is insane" Evan whined "I can't do this! This was a stupid idea! Why did I ever ask for this?"

Jericho shook his head, standing behind his lover and tugging his Air Bourne tights up around his lithe thighs.

"I'm so stupid, going after the belt" Evan made his master's job harder by squirming around "I'm not ready for this, I haven't earned it!"

"Yes you have, Evvy" Chris countered, finally getting the pants up around the younger man's hips "You've worked your ass off for this."

"I'm gonna mess it up, I know I am" the ravenette rambled, so oblivious to the world that he didn't notice how his master pressed up behind him as he pulled the strings and knotted his wrestling pants "I didn't practice enough, I totally blew it off."

"Stop jittering" Chris grumbled, manhandling his sub into a nearby chair. He dropped to his knees, grabbing the boy's boots so he could start lacing them. Evan kept on chattering even as the blonde shoved a boot on his feet and started slipping the strings through the holes, pulling tight.

"Hi Evan."

The two voices perfectly intertwined, cutting through the high flyer's whine and stopping him abruptly. Evan looked to the door way, smiling brightly when he saw his two friends leaning against side of the doorframe. Alex and Chris were dressed up in their punk ring gear, clad in spikes and leather and chains. Just the way they liked it…just the way Big Sexy liked it. Chris's hood cut off just above his eyes, the spikes along the length of it giving him the look of a demon with a smoldering gaze. Alex's touch of silver eyeliner with the matching silver streak through his faux-hawk gave him an…angelic sheen.

They looked stunning, their overall appearance aided by golden Unified Tag-Team belts around their waists.

"We just came by to wish you luck" Chris stated, looking around the room "Huh, smaller than ours."

"Shut up" Evan glared, but his tone was playful.

"You're going to do great" Alex assured him "We believe in you and all that."

"You brats" Chris smiled fondly, fingers still working on the boots "Where's the big guy at?"

Alex pouted, "He never tells us when he disappears like this, but I'm sure it's something _real_ important."

"Or, ya know, _not_" Chris countered, getting a jab in the ribs by his lover "What?"

"Anyways" the brunette gave him a glare, then looked to the high flyer "We just wanted to say-"

"Good luck."

The brats jumped when hands landed on their shoulders, the darker Hardy standing between them and standing nearly a half a head taller than them both. He was in his street clothes, shades perched atop his head and his duffle bag thrown over his shoulder.

Jericho raised a brow, "Matt?"

"I wanted to wish your boy luck" Matt nodded towards Evan, who flushed happily in turn "I have to head out of here, I won't be able to watch. Have fun out there."

"Where are you going?" Evan craned his neck to see the piece of paper in Matt's hand. The ravenette flashed it, waving it between the Motor City Brats like a badge.

"I'm gonna go see my brother" was the simple reply.

Alex wet his lips, "How is he over there?"

No one got to see Jeff much, not with him making his way over in TNA. He was champion at the moment, a heel for once. He'd turned into some kind of demon over there, and he seemed to be loving every minute of it. All the partying and grandeur was only to distract him from his loneliness…being away from his family and friends for so long was starting to wear on him.

"He's doing fine" Matt forced a smile "He's doin' what he wants and lovin' it. And it sucks that he's decided to be a heel…" his smile quivered as he tried to laugh it off "But who in their right mind would try to stop Skittles from doing what he wants?"

Jericho knew how close his friend was from falling apart, so he gave him an opening.

"Far be it from us to stop you" Chris waved him off "Go, have fun. Tell Jeff we said hi."

With a nod, Matt slipped on his shades and was gone. It was quiet for a few minutes after he left, filled with the soft sounds of Jericho lacing his lover's boots. Evan kept squirming until finally he burst.

"Are you sure it's okay for me to fight a master?" Evan gushed "I mean, it's Mike! He can be downright evil! He's not going to go easy on me, he never does. Oh fuck, I'm going to get creamed, aren't I?"

Chris chuckled, "Nervous, much?"

Alex glared at his lover, "Be nice."

"I mean, it's not fair for a both of them to have a belt, right?" Evan looked to his master pleadingly, who was smoothing out his tights "Miz and Jack, I mean. Jack's the Heavyweight champion, and Miz is…well, he's _the_ champion! It's not fair, right? I'm doing a good thing. I'm not-" he swallowed thickly "-overstepping my bounds?"

"Stop it, precious" Chris murmured, standing up and pulling his lover to his feet "You're a superstar right now, not my sub. You have every right to face Miz, as much as any other…more even. You'll be amazing. You'll wow them."

Chris leaned in, dropping a kiss on the smaller man's forehead, "Like always."

Sabin nudged his partner, nodding at the hall. They crept away, making sure not to make any noise that would disturb the lovers.

"Speaking of couples holding the belts…"

That voice was unmistakable, they turned with equal grins to face a smirking Justin Gabriel. They turned with equal smirks to face their dark skinned friend, standing there in his angel-gear and grinning like a fox. He was all dressed up and nowhere to go…or so they thought.

"Hey, Jay" Alex stated, looking to his lover curiously "What are you stalking around for?"

"Oh, nothing" Gabriel purred "Hope you've warmed up properly for your match later. You'll need it against my 'Lex."

"Oh please" Chris gave a cocky smirk "It's the two of us against him. Bring it."

Gabriel lifted his hand to his mouth, releasing a sultry chuckle that sent shivers down the Brats spines. He didn't say a word, but he didn't have to.

Alex's mind clicked into place, "You're planning on interfering, aren't you!"

Gabriel pouted rather innocently, "We have to debut as a tag-team some time!"

Alex and Chris gaped, frozen in place as the cattish wrestler stalked towards them. He stopped right in front of them, reaching out and trailing his fingers down the golden plates of their belts. He had a hungry look in his eyes, a huge step above the fallen angel he had been only a few months ago.

"And who better than _us_ against the champions?" Justin whispered, lips twitching out of their pout into a smirk "You two have had it long enough, haven't you?"

Chris went to grab him, but the African dodged and darted down the hall. His laughter trailed behind him, agitating them further.

"You total cheater!" Chris shouted, shaking his fist after him like an old man. Alex huffed and laid a hand on his lover's arm, getting him to lower it.

"It's fine" Alex pressed up against him, sliding his hands up his lover's arms to the base of his neck "Let it go, Demon. We're going to kick their asses tonight."

Chris growled at the use of his play name, but conceded. It wasn't as if he was actually upset, it was just his nature to get hysterical and dramatic. Alex was his rock, keeping him physically grounded to this spot so he wouldn't run off and make an ass of himself. Instead, he dodged around his lover and caught him from behind. The brunette rolled his eyes, letting the other take his hips in a vice.

"Let's have a good luck fuck" Chris murmured in his ear, the air movement tickling his skin "Ya know, for tonight. We're gonna show that baby-master his place."

"It's not our duty to-" Alex cut himself off, his lover's hands ghosting lower to the 'V' of his thighs "Chrissy!"

"Please?" Chris whined, stubble scratching across the man's shoulder now "I want it. You saying you don't?"

"Well, no, but that's not the point-"

"Well what? Fuck me."

Alex's eyes widened, he turned to come nose-to-nose with the man, "Y-You'd let me…?"

The copper haired man nodded quickly, brushing their noses in a very puppyish fashion, "Why not? All you'd have to do is earn it."

Alex bit the side of his lip, anticipation welling and swelling up inside of him. He'd never topped Chris before, he'd never gotten permission. No one but their master had been inside Chris, and that was the way Kevin had always liked it.

"What about Big Sexy?" Alex tried to laugh it off "I don't think he'd like us playing without his permission?"

"What if I said…I got his permission?" Chris slowly started to back off, raking his fingers suggestively over his title belt "What if I told you that if we retain our titles tonight…Master had some delicious and devious in store for us?"

Alex's full lips pursed, "Then I'd know a certain devil has been whispering into our master's ear."

Chris shrugged, turning away to idly make his way down the hall. The brunette waited behind for a few beats, weighing the probabilities in his mind. What if Chris was telling a white lie? What kind of punishment would they receive? He didn't like to be punished…

_Wrists bound, gag damp and binding away his words. He thrashed upon the white silk sheets, collar glistening at his throat as he tried to arch away from the burn of hot wax. It dripped steadily down his chest, across his abs, even burning the inside of his thighs. But like the good angel he was, he kept his legs parted and his neck bared. He didn't want to displease his master, but it hurt._

_Hurt so good._

_Chris was in the corner, watching hungrily. His collar was clipped snug at his throat, bare from the waist up. Leather pants, shredded at the knees, gave him his modesty. The bulge in them was obscene, his face colored so rosy that one would be able to tell his desire even if he wasn't panting like a pup. He was shifting restlessly, wanting to join in, but he was bound to the silver hoop on the wall by a chain that was d-clipped to his collar. The silver hoops twin was just a few feet away, meant for a certain angel when his time ._

_Looming above him, tall and tan in the golden light, was his master. He was brandishing a deep blue candle, tilting it just enough to let a few drops of wax spill when they pleased. His lips were curled into a grin, his silver hair unbound and curling at his shoulders. He was all that was man, smelling of musk and decorated with scars. Scars that came with the industry, and some from enemies long past and too close._

"_Have you had enough, Angel?" Kevin crooned, always so sweet and soft with his bright one._

_Alex nodded, getting a heavy splash of blue wax across his pec. He cried out, shuddering so hard he was sure his skin was crawling. As it cooled, the pleasure turned his cry into a moan, nipples hardening under the stimulation. _

"_Then you shouldn't have fallen so hard" the older man growled, thoroughly displeased with how his pet had been acting the past few days. Chris had convinced him to do some rather naughty things with other wrestlers, tricked him into some prime positions and against them nearly naked a few times. All because of a few words and some nudges from his partner, and with that he landed into some serious trouble with their master._

_Kevin didn't take lightly to people feeling up his angel._

"_You knew better" Kevin clawed his fingers through the wax "You're my good boy, I taught you better than to rub your sweet ass against just anyone. You belong to me, and I will not-!" he punctuated this by closing his big hand around the smaller man's throat "-have you smelling like other men. Do you hear me?"_

_Alex nodded frantically, little whimpers escaping past the gag. He couldn't take much more, Kevin was never this brutal with him. The thick hand around his throat eased, slipping away to be replaced with sharp teeth and a slick tongue. His whimper fazed out into a sweet whine of relief as the sensitive skin was suckled and marked to his master's content._

"_You disobey me again, and you'll get it ten times worse."_

_The threat was made in soothing vibration against his jugular, and he nodded…more leisurely this time._

"_My innocent boy" Kevin rumbled in his ear, easing the pain away with a few strokes of his solid palm "Are you ready to watch our Demon receive his punishment?"_

"Oh God yes" Alex breathed out loud, the ecstasy in his voice shaking him from his own fantasies. He blinked rapidly, dissolving the images behind his eyelids like an old film tearing apart. He dashed aside his skepticism and his blatant doubts, letting his feet take over.

"Chris, wait!"

Alex hurried after his lover, ready to cash in that offer.

**xXx**

Edge watched Shane carefully as the man put together two contracts. One for him, the other for his submissive lover. His eyes were sharp, trained on every movement, making sure the man didn't slip anything else inside them.

Shane sighed, looking world-weary, "Wanna check again?"

"No" Edge sat back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest "I trust you."

Shane muttered and went back to organizing the contracts. His cheeks were pale, the dark circles under his eyes confirming his hectic schedule. Poor guy worked himself to the bone, and yet Stephanie remained the favorite. It was how the McMahon family had always worked, even the wrestlers could figure it out. And to think, he used to be so carefree.

Christian was in the seat beside him, one leg idly crossed over the other while his hands took home on the rests of the plush chair. Though they had come here with a very serious purpose, his eyes lingered out the window and his thoughts were somewhere far away. There was a troubled expression marring his brow, but otherwise he was as handsome as ever.

Adam reached out and touched his lover's forearm, but there was no response.

Undertaker was leaning against the wall by the door, arms crossed over his chest. His head was tilted down, shades covering his eyes and leaving an aura of mystery around him. It was all an act to intimidate Shane, and it was clearly working.

"Here we go" Shane pushed the contracts in front of the two men, the two stacks almost completely identical "Five year contracts for the both of you. A couple of proper title runs, three good feuds, and almost no jobbing. Does that please you?"

"With all the time and effort you put into it?" Adam sighed in relief, starting to flip through his own "Yes…yes it does."

Jay turned from the window, letting his eyes rest upon his own binding contract. All he had to do was sign it, and he was free. With their retirement pay, they'd be able to live out the rest of their lives the way they wanted. Sure, they'd still show up for house shows and maybe even management…go on tour like superstars were bound to do…maybe even get into the Hall of Fame. But all that was part of the job, they wouldn't have to risk their lives anymore. His bandaged shoulder was enough to make him see the true danger in their job.

A few weeks ago, he'd torn his pectoral muscle. He'd seen it happen to half a dozen guys, and back then he'd been so sure it'd never happen to him. Yet here he was…arm slung in a cast, unable to wrestle for at least two more months. Thankfully he hadn't completely destroyed himself, the doctor said he'd hurt himself in the best way possible.

Thank God for small favors.

"What's wrong, angel?" Edge murmured, leaning in and running a hand across his lover's chest "Your shoulder bothering you?"

"No, I'm fine" Jay replied, an automatic response for his master's concern. But he didn't pull away like he used to, he let Adam fuss over him. With each brush of his fingers, he left his scent on the slighter man…like a big cat claiming his territory.

Shane watched them scan their contracts with a sour look on his face. He was obviously holding something back, and soon enough he couldn't stop himself.

"You're not going back to TNA, right?" Shane gushed, dark eyes taking on the glisten of a puppy "_Please_ tell me they didn't make you a better offer? I'll triple it, whatever it is!"

Christian cringed at the company name. He despised that place, Angle's essence lingered there like a bad stink. His, as well as Raven's and AJ's. God, they had cost that company plenty of money already, it wouldn't be a surprise if they tried to claim them.

"No" Edge replied sharply, fingers gently grazing his lover's arm once more "It's just…we've been in this business a long time. Nineteen years now. I think twenty-five is a good cap for our careers, don't you?"

Shane pursed his lips in an almost-pout, like he was debating on whether the man was telling the truth or not. But Jay's dejected nod assured him that he was indeed being honest. If these two were fake-retiring in a few years, with a real retirement just a year off that stint…then how long before Undertaker retired?

"Mark" Shan piped up, then shrank back when the man raised his head and gave him a shaded glare "Nothing, never mind."

Mark smirked, he didn't even have to growl anymore to get respect…seems they were learning.

"Give me a pen" Jay stated, ready to end this.

They had talked long and seriously about this joint decision, but Adam could feel some resentment coming off his angel.

"Jay, you don't have to-"

"I'm doing what I want, just like you" Christian snapped "I'm just cranky, okay?"

Adam backed off, letting his lover have what he wanted. He'd known his brother long enough to know when to back off, and this was not the time to push.

For now, he'd be content with what he had, and help his lover heal.

**xXx**

There was something disheartening about the end of a show. It was a time where the hard earned magic of the superstars faded and the afterglow of a show-well-done settled over the crowd. Larger-than-life superstars shrank and became mere mortals again. Their weary bodies could be seen in the underground parking lot, trudging along with only the hopes of a cool bed and a hot meal in mind.

Stars started filing out, drifting toward their cars like ghouls.

The most notable were the two biggest champions in the business…walking together, with two possible champions. They were walking in pairs, the two subs behind the two masters. As usual, Miz and Alex had their heads together and were whispering about strategy and that night's match against Evan. Their grins were equal, their white teeth shining the dull light. Equally handsome faces were inches apart, one would think they were lovers…or a pair of thieves.

Their _actual_ lovers were behind them, Jack with his belt across his shoulder and Justin with his pout in full bloom.

"It-th okay, man" Jack assured the boy, draping his thick arm across the man's shoulder "You tried. Those Brats are in sync, you can't be down on that. You held yourthelf well out there."

Justin smiled up at the bigger man, glad that he had at least proven himself worthy of going up against the champions. He let himself be dragged into Swagger's side, giving a playful growl but otherwise showing no protest. They watched their masters fondly, both thinking (without knowing it) of how lucky they were to have such charismatic masters.

The next couple to spill out of the doors were much less bright, a shadow seeming to follow them. Christian was walking slowly, duffle bag slung over his good shoulder. Adam was following him very closely, ready to catch the bag if his brother's body was going to give out. But Jay was determined to do it by himself, and that was something he just had to respect.

"I'll get the car door" Adam offered, pulling out the keys and going on ahead to the silver rental car. He didn't want to step on his brother's toes, and he was sure that this action was subtle enough to keep his sympathy known but not pressing. Shit, his brother had torn his pectoral muscle! That was one of the most serious injuries one could get in this industry! He'd torn his own Achilles heel not too long ago, and he could still recall the painful months of recovery. He had been torn out of a prime feud spot for that. He'd lost his title belts because of it. And who'd replaced him? Fuckin' Big Show. Jay had been by his side as much as possible, staying off tour for days just so he could play nursemaid.

/And what a naughty nursemaid he was/ Adam grinned to himself, unlocking the passenger door and swinging it open. He hadn't so much as tossed his bag in the back seat when he heard a muffled yelp and a thud, a sickening noise if there ever was one.

Adam whipped around, wincing when he saw his lover collapsed on his knees with his duffle bag haphazardly at his side. Jay was cradling his injured shoulder and arm, brow creased and mouth twisted in pain. He hurried to the man's side, dropping down next to him and immediately reaching out to caress his injured shoulder.

He older blonde was surprised when his lover cuddled up into his chest, burying his face in his neck and letting his weight rest on him. It broke his heart, and the sweet sigh of relief that escaped Jay melted and reformed the sacred organ. He tightened his grip, letting his strength pour into the other.

"I got you" Edge whispered, that gleam of dominance back in his eyes "Come on. Let's get you in the car."

Jay gave a weak protest, "But…"

"No 'buts', you're listening to me now" Edge easily picked his lover up off his feet, making sure his grip was firm before he headed towards the car again. Jay didn't resist a second more, letting his master do what he would with him.

From his motorcycle, Morrison watched the scene. He idly reached up and touched the bit of scar on his face, an ache for his own master was filling his heart. It was dulled by the fact that he knew he'd be seeing the man soon, he was going straight to the airport once he got on this metal deathtrap. He had been upset on the phone earlier, and Shawn had demanded that he get home as soon as possible.

Without a second thought, he swung his helmet off the seat and on his head. One would be able to tell how eager he was by how he ignored his hair, he didn't give one thought to mussing it up as he buckled his helmet in place. In just a few moments, he was straddling the machine and coaxing it to life.

"He'll kill himself on that thing" Chris muttered, shifting the weight on his back. The weight gave a yawn and curled it's arms tighter around his neck. Jericho smiled and let his sub get comfortable for continuing, the car just in sight.

Evan released a sigh that sounded a bit like, "Mrrrr…"

"Tired, precious?" Chris cooed.

"Mm-hm" doe eyes fluttered open, lithe body completely spent from the match he had against Miz "Did I do good, Master?"

"You did very well" Chris replied, his smile even softer "You gave Mike a run for his money. You showed them, precious. I swear."

"Mmm, good" Evan started to doze off, burying his face in the back of his master's neck. He inhaled his scent, a low musk of Diesel cologne and man. It made his cock twitch in his the confines of his jeans, something the blonde felt quite clearly.

"Naughty boy" Chris growled lowly, his step quickening at the thought of rewarding his sweetling.

Evan parted his lips, letting his teeth scrape across the nape of the blonde's neck. He felt his master's grip tightening on his legs, a sign that he was winding him up. He was completely spent, but he was in for some good old-fashioned loving.

"Aren't they cute?" Chris whispered into his lover's ear, dropping a kiss just behind it to punctuate the sentence.

"Yeah" the brunette agreed, letting his attention fall from the couple so he could focus on his lover "Hey, do I have a…?"

Alex gestured to his neck, indicating a hickey. The other didn't look, merely nuzzled the skin with his nose.

"Not a one that our master didn't put there" he lied.

Alex sighed in relief, letting his guard down. He weakly batted at the copper haired man, not really trying to put up the resistance nor accepting it completely. He smiled softly, secretly enjoying the puppyish actions of the man. The hairs on the back of his neck stood up, Chris froze at his side. Two big hands settled over the nape of their necks, making them freeze. A warm body pressed up behind their own, getting right in their personal space.

"And how are my boys doing?" a low voice rumbled.

"Master…" they both purred, arching into the touch in almost unison.

"Where have you been?" Alex added.

"I was with Cena, talking to some important people" Kevin replied "We're working on getting a bus for the subs to ride in on long trips.. We're tired of you being unprotected all the time."

"Thank you" Alex replied, his heart picking up it's pace in excitement "We appreciate it, Master."

"What have my boys been up to?" Kevin inquired, brushing a kiss through Alex's brunette tresses "Nothing bad, I hope?"

"Nope" Chris answered automatically.

Kevin was inclined to believe them, and started steering them toward his truck, "Good."

The brats exchanged glances, thinking they had gotten away with their rough tryst. What they didn't know was that at that moment, Kevin glanced down and saw the little love nips decorating his angel's neck. A scowl twisted his lips, even though he knew (without a doubt) that Chris was the one who left them. His hands tightened on the backs of their necks, making the two boys arch and keen.

"Master" Alex's whined, the man's thumb digging into his jugular where one of the

"Did my boys get naughty without my permission?" Kevin growled "_Again?_"

"No" Chris lied automatically.

Kevin squeezed them harder, forcing their heads down submissively. They got to the truck, where he forced them both to a standstill with pure strength alone.

"I'm sorry" Alex exclaimed, he could never lie to his master.

"I know you are, Angel" Kevin pinned the brunette up against the truck, chest and stomach flat against the cold metal. He squirmed, but froze when his master gave a bark to stop. He shuddered under the touch, listening for what his lover's punishment would be.

Kevin dragged Chris to his chest with the other hand, bringing their faces close. The boy looked nervous, but not scared…not yet.

"My little demon" Kevin bent his head down, running his canines down the curve of his neck. The younger man shuddered, but kept his mouth shut.

"Did you -once again- play behind my back?"

"No, I-"

"_Don't lie_."

Kevin dug his teeth into the sensitive flesh, making the copper haired man writhe.

"I'm sorry" Chris purred, his cock stirring restlessly inside his jeans at the rough sensations "You know I can't resist him."

"My horny demon" Kevin corrected himself, breath tickling the oversensitive flesh. He let go of both his boys, a smirk twisting his lips now.

"Get in the truck" Kevin ordered "I think it's time we had a nice, long playdate. Don't you?"

Punk shook his head as the threesome disappeared into a high truck together, his heart warming at the sight of Kevin carefully helping each of his boys into the vehicle. The way he slapped Chris's ass, the way he stroked Alex's thigh…sometimes it just got on his nerves. He was standing in the doorway to the underground lot, observing his colleagues as they made their way to their respective resting places for the night. Most were alone, but there were _some_ lucky few that had managed to pair off and were off to a night of lovemaking.

"Lucky, lucky boys" Phil sneered, dragging himself down the stairs. His feet made an awful scraping sound against the cement, rolling his neck in hopes of easing the ache there. He looked almost completely different from the image he had portrayed just a year ago. His long dark hair had been sheared in some stipulations, and he'd decided to put some blonde highlights in once his hair had grown out. He loved how he looked now, it was just the change he needed. He'd toned up, his muscles were coming in firm and swelling at his biceps like they'd once done. He'd been on a bad road there for a while with his Straight Edge Society…

"Where do you think you're going, pretty boy?"

That rough rumble sent delicious shivers up Punk's spine, his eyes fluttered shut so he could savor the flavor it. He knew his master couldn't be far away, though he had let himself be fooled into thinking Mark had abandoned him.

"Mark" Phil turned at the bottom of the steps, squinting into the shadows "…master?"

From the darkest part of the side stairwell emerged his master, in all his dark glory. He had a smirk on his face, the first sign that he was up to no good. He looked as intimidating as ever, and just as powerful. Phil had to resist the urge to drop to his knees right there, to kneel in a sign of respect and submission as _all_ should do in the presence of The Undertaker. His master, his lord…all that he followed.

"My prince" Mark smirked, holding out his hand. Punk stepped forward and took it, finding himself pulled into the dark and hidden in just moments. His master's hands were all over him, gliding down his arms and over his hips…through his hair, along his back. One palm settled on the back of his neck, right over his hidden tattoo. Phil leaned into him, sighing in content.

"Master" escaped him once more in a relieved purr, cheek pressed against the older man's thick pec.

"We have some things to talk about, my prince" Mark stated, though he knew it would upset his sub.

"About what?"

"About…my retirement."

Phil ripped himself away from the man, staring up at him in shock. He couldn't believe what he was hearing, his ears were burning.

"Mark!" Phil couldn't stop from shouting "What the hell do you mean 'your retirement'? You're not retiring! You're going to be hear for…for…!"

"Five more years" Mark seized his lover's flailing fists, holding them to his chest "_If_ my body holds out that long. I'm getting on in years, prince…you know that better than anyone."

"You're lying" Phil let his hands roam over his master's chest, the muscles there firm and strong "You're fine! Don't talk like that! Besides, you wouldn't start training a new Head Master without telling me!"

Even as he said it, he knew he was wrong. He knew from the look in the older man's eyes that he had already picked and started training someone, his successor already in prime place for take over at a moment's notice. It broke his heart, he didn't want to think of this strong man all weak and crippled by serious injures. With the stunts Mark pulled, it wouldn't be long off.

Phil's resolve started to crumble. He cleared his throat, wetting his lips, trying to coax words out.

"Who is it?" he choked.

The doors at the start of the stairwell burst open, a boisterous laugh escaping and echoing into the complex. Phil found himself pulled to his master's chest protectively, Mark's back flush against the cement side of the stairwell. They watched the steps carefully, both breathing a sigh of relief when they saw a very familiar set of broad shoulders swathed in lavender.

Cena was laughing at a joke his boy had just told him, the blonde at his side. Ted was chuckling softly, giving a little yelp when he was yanked into his master's side. They passed soon enough, making their way towards the back of the parking lot.

"Cena?" Punk inquired in a rather deadpan "Really?"

"Yes, _Michael_, really" Mark teased lightly, hoping to ease his pet's concerns "You knew I was favoring him to take over."

"Still…" the younger man sighed in almost disappointment "So soon?"

"It had to come eventually" large palms smoothed over his shoulders "You knew that."

"It doesn't mean I have to fucking like it" Punk growled, though there was a hard-earned respect lacing in his tone "But he is a good…I'd follow him, if you weren't around."

A brief, relieved smile graced the Deadman's face. He knew he could trust his pet's judgment if nothing else in this world. He dragged him into another embrace, letting the slighter burrow into him.

"We won't think about it tonight" Mark murmured into blonde-highlighted hair "Tonight…let me treat you. I'll get a suite, and we'll celebrate your return to _RAW_ properly."

Punk nodded against the man's chest, relaxing into the touch like any good sub would.

The day he would have to travel without his master around was one that was far off.

Ted gave a gruff laugh as his master wrapped an arm around his waist, yanking him into his side. He was led along at a jaunty pace, his feet struggling to keep up with his master's long strides.

"Where were you for _hours?_" Ted faux-whined, letting himself be all but dragged to the car.

"Met up with, Nash, kitten" John replied, squeezing him experimentally "Getting you guys a bus…and…hey, have you been working out?"

"No."

"Hmm" John squeezed him again, noting the firmness of his boy "Nevermind."

Ted's brow creased, but he didn't say anything.

John threw up a hand in a wave at his best friend as they passed. Ted managed a quick wave before the two disappeared behind the row of cars.

Randy nodded in acknowledgment, lips twitching when he saw how plump Ted looked. By no means fat, but…healthy.

"He's got that glow, doesn't he?" Cody asked, his voice floating out from inside the car. He was busy buckling little Alec into his car seat, the boy quite memorized by the cold teething ring cradled in his palms. He gazed at his daddy with big blue eyes, the edge of the chew toy stuck between his lips. Cody smiled and cooed at his boy, dropping a kiss on his forehead before ducking out. He laid a hand on his own tight belly, the before mentioned glow gracing his own cheeks.

"You cat boys" Randy teased light heartedly "You need to leave pregnancy for the women."

"You're just jealous" Cody sidled up to his lover, lips curled into a grin. He pressed his boy up against the he'd older man's, strong arms instantaneously wrapping around his back. It was a natural reaction by now, a natural love - a natural connection. Just like it had been from the beginning, all those years ago. They couldn't remember a time when this was awkward, or a time when neither harbored this unbridled love. Randy nuzzled the boy's head, catching his wonderful scent.

"You ready to go home, sweetness?" Randy murmured, lips brushing the brunette's sensitive ears. Cody shivered and nodded, he'd wanted nothing more his entire life. Home meant a familiar bed and good food, it meant a nursery for Alec, it meant playing with his son in front of the fireplace was Randy watched football. It meant normality. He loved the life they led, but sometimes…it wore him out.

A knuckle curled beneath Cody's chin, raising it enough for his master to capture his mouth.

"You are the most beautiful thing I've ever seen" Randy murmured, reflecting one of the first things he ever said to his pet "Ever will see."

Cody smiled, eyes closed in bliss. He nuzzled his master's chest, a low purr escaping his throat.

"Master…?"

"Yeah?" Randy pulled away, locking eyes with his baby.

"Is this how it'll always be?" Cody whimpered, hope shining in his eyes.

"Of course" Randy ran his fingertips down the flushed cheek, a crooked grin twisting his lips "And be-damn anyone who tries to change it."

Cody nodded, glad that he could trust his master to keep their lives stable.

As all the pets trusted their masters to do.

* * *

**FINALLY! Damn, that was a long fic. I'm so sorry about the wait, guys, I had to finish my quarter, and I have work, and I moved…yeah, sorry. But I finished it! Yayz! Thanks for sticking with me! I may right some one shots as I see fit, but as far as I'm concerned this fic is over.**

**Love and Rockets, Emono**


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